Consuelo

iiiSill

CONSUELO

By GEORGE SAND

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH
By frank H. POTTER

IN FOUR VOLUMES
Vol. IV

NEW YORK

DODD, MEAD & COMPANY

1889

Copyright, 1SS9
By DODD, mead & COMPANY

All rights reserved

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CONSUELO.

CHAPTER I.

It was not to the Venetian embassy, but to the
house of the ambassador, that Porpora took Consuelo.
Signora Corner was a beautiful creature, passionately
fond of music, whose only pleasure and pretension
was to assemble at her house in small parties the
artists and dilettanti whom she could attract there
without compromising by too great ostentation Mon-
signor Corner's diplomatic dignity. When Consuelo
appeared, there was a moment of surprise and doubt,
then a shout of joy and of cordiality as soon as they
were sure that it was really the Zingarella, the marvel
of the preceding year at San-Samuel. Wilhelmina,
who had seen her as a child, coming to her house
behind Porpora, carrying his books and following him
like a little dog, had become much cooler towards her
when she had seen her receiving such applause and
homage in the drawing-rooms of the nobility, and
winning such triumphs upon the stage. It is not that
she was spiteful, or that she condescended to be jealous
of a girl who had so long been considered frightfully
ugly ; but Wilhelmina hked to play the fine lady, like

2 CONSUELO,

all who are not so. She had sung the great airs with
Porpora (who, treating her talent as an amateur's, had
allowed her to try everything), while poor Consuelo
was still studying that famous sheet of pasteboard
upon which the master had summed up his whole
method of singing, and to which he confined his
serious pupils for five or six years. Wilhelmina, there-
fore, did not imagine that she could have any other
feeling for the Zingarella than a benevolent interest.
But because she had long ago given her sugar-plums,
or handed her a picture-book to keep her from weary-
ing herself in the ante -chamber, she concluded that
she had been one of the most efficient protectors of
this young talent. She had therefore thought it very
extraordinary and unseemly that Consuelo, when she
sprang in an instant to the pinnacle of triumph, had
not shown herself humble, attentive and filled with
gratitude towards her. She had expected that
when she had small reunions of chosen spirits, Con-
suelo would graciously and gratuitously supply the
evening's entertainment, by singing for her and with
her as often and as long as she desired, and that she
could present her to her friends, assuming the credit
of having aided her in her debut and in some sense
formed her musical intelligence. But matters had
turned out differently. Porpora, who cared much more
to raise his pupil Consuelo to the rank in the hier-
archy of art which belonged to her than to please his
protectress Wilhelmina, had laughed in his sleeve at
her pretensions, and had forbidden Consuelo to ac-

CONSUELO. 3

cept the invitations, somewhat too familiar at first
and then somewhat too imperious, of the ambassadress
"by the left hand.'* He had been able to find a
thousand excuses for not bringing her with him, and
Wilhelmina had consequently taken a violent dislike
to the debutante, even saying that she was not hand-
some enough ever to have had incontestable success ;
that her voice, which was indeed agreeable in a
drawing-room, lacked sonority in the theatre ] that she
did not fulfil upon the stage all the promise of her
youth ; and other spiteful remarks of the same kind
familiar to all times and all countries.

But soon the enthusiastic clamor of the public had
stifled these little insinuations, and Wilhelmina, who
prided herself on being a good judge, a learned pupil
of Porpora and a generous being, had not dared to
carry on this underhand war against the most brilliant
pupil of the maestro and the idol of society. She had
joined her voice to those of the true dilettanti to extol
Consuelo, and if she had still depreciated her a little
because of the pride and ambition which she had
shown in not placing her voice at the disposition of
my lady the ambassadress, it was only in a whisper,
and in the ears of a chosen few, that my lady the
ambassadress allowed herself to blame her for it.

Now, when she saw Consuelo coming to her in her
modest toilet of the old days, and when Porpora pre-
sented her officially, as he had never done before,
Wilhelmina, vain and frivolous as she was, forgave
everything, and assumed a role of generous dignity.

4 CONSUELO,

Kissing the Zingarella on both cheeks, she said to
herself, —

" She is ruined ; she has committed some folly, or
lost her voice, perhaps, for we have heard nothing of
her for a long time. She is at our mercy. This is the
moment to pity her, to protect her and to prove or
profit by her talents."

Consuelo appeared so gentle and conciliating that
Wilhelmina, not finding that tone of haughty pros-
perity that she had imagined in her at Venice, felt
quite at her ease and loaded her with courtesies.
Some Italians, friends of the ambassador, who hap-
pened to be there, united with her in overwhelming
Consuelo with praise and questions, which she eluded
adroitly and playfully. But suddenly her face became
serious, and a certain emotion displayed itself upon it,
as she saw, among the group of Germans who were
looking at her curiously from the other end of the room,
a face which had already annoyed her elsewhere. It
was the unknown, the canon's friend, who had exam-
ined and questioned her so closely three days before,
in the house of the curate of the village where she had
sung mass with Joseph Haydn. This unknown was
again examining her with extreme curiosity, and it was
easy to see that he was asking his neighbors concerning
her. Wilhelmina noticed Consuelo's pre-occupation.

"Are you looking at Herr Holzbauer?" she said.
" Do you know him? "

"I do not know him," replied Consuelo, "and I
do not know whether it is he at whom I am looking."

CONSUELO. 5

^^ He is on the right of the console," said the am-
bassadress. '' He is the director of the court theatre,
and his wife is its leading prima donna. He abuses
his position," she added in an undertone, '' by regal-
ing the court and the city with his operas, which are
not worth a farthing. Would you like to know him?
He is a very polite man."

"A thousand thanks, signora," replied Consuelo.
" I am of too little importance here to be presented
to such a personage, and I am sure in advance that
he will not engage me for his theatre."

"Why not, my love? Has your beautiful voice,
which had not its equal in Italy, suffered by your
residence in Bohemia? for you have lived all this
time in Bohemia, they say, in the coldest and
dreariest country in the world. It is very bad for
the throat, and I am not surprised that you felt its
effects. But that is nothing; your voice will return
beneath our beautiful sun in Venice."

Consuelo, seeing that Wilhelmina was in great haste
to assert the deterioration of her voice, refrained from
contradicting this opinion, especially as the ambassa-
dress had herself made both question and answer.
She cared nothing for this charitable supposition, but
rather for the antipathy which she expected to find in
Holzbauer because of a somewhat rude and frank
reply which she had made concerning his music at
the breakfast in the rectory. The court maestro
would not fail to avenge himself by telling in what
costume and in what company he had met her on

6 CONSUELO.

the highways, and Consuelo was afraid that this ad-
venture, if it reached Porpora's ears, would prej-
udice him against her, and especially against poor
Joseph.

The event was quite different. Holzbauer did not
say a word about the adventure, for reasons which
will be explained farther on, and far from showing
the slightest animosity towards Consuelo, he ap-
proached her, and looked at her with a playful sly-
ness which revealed only good-will. She pretended
not to understand him. She would have feared to
ask him for secrecy, and whatever might be the
results of their meeting, she was too proud not to
await them calmly.

Her attention was drawn from this incident by the
face of an old man with a hard and haughty look,
who nevertheless showed cordiality in conversing
with Porpora, who, true to his bad temper, hardly
spoke to him, and was perpetually endeavoring to
find a pretext to get rid of him.

"That is an illustrious master, Buononcini," said
Wilhelmina, who was not sorry to recapitulate to
Consuelo the list of celebrities who decorated her
drawing-room. " He has just returned from Paris,
where he played himself the violoncello part in one
of his motets before the king. You know that it is
he who created a sensation so long in London, and
who, after an obstinate theatrical war with Handel,
ended by vanquishing him in opera.'*

" Do not say that, signora," said Porpora, who had

CONSUELO. 1

escaped from Buononcini, and who had heard Wilhel-
mina's last words as he came towards her. " Oh, do
not utter such a blasphemy ! No one has vanquished
Handel, no one will do it. I know my Handel, and
you do not know him yet. He is the first of us all,
and I confess it, though I also had the audacity to
struggle against him in the days of my foolish youth.
I was crushed ; it had to be so ; it was just. Buonon-
cini, more fortunate, but not more modest nor more
able than I, triumphed in the eyes of fools and in the
ears of barbarians. But do not believe those who tell
you of this triumph ; it will be an eternal cause of
ridicule to my brother Buononcini, and England
will blush some day for having preferred his operas
to those of such a genius, such a giant, as Handel.
Fashion, bad taste, the favorable situation of a the-
atre, a clique, intrigues, and, more than all, the
prodigious talent of the singers whom Buononcini
had for interpreters, gained the victory in appearance.
But Handel has taken a formidable revenge in sacred
music. As for Signor Buononcini, I do not think
much of him, I do not care for thieves, and I say
that he pilfered his success in opera just as honestly
as in cantata."

Porpora was alluding to a scandalous theft which
had set the whole musical world in a flurry : Buonon-
cini had attributed to himself in England the glory of
a composition which Lotti had made thirty years
before, and which he had succeeded in proving his
own in the clearest fashion, after a long discussion

8 CONSUELO.

with the brazen maestro. Wilhelmina tried to defend
Buononcini, and this contradiction having inflamed
Porpora's bile, he cried, without caring whether Buon-
oncini heard him, —

" I tell you, I assert to you that Handel is supe-
rior, even in opera, to all the men of the past and
present. I will prove it to you at once. Consuelo,
sit down at the piano and sing us the air which I will
tell you."

" I am dying with eagerness to hear the admirable
Porporina,'' said Wilhelmina, " but I beg you not to
have her make her debut here, in the presence of
Buononcini and Holzbauer, in Handel's music. They
might not feel flattered by such a choice " —

*' I believe you ! " said Porpora, " it is their living
condemnation, their death-warrant.'*

** Well, in that case, let her sing something of your
own, master.'*

"You know, no doubt, that that would excite the
envy of no one. But I wish her to sing Handel ; I
wish it ! *'

" Master, do not oblige me to sing to-day,'* said
Consuelo. " I have just finished a long journey " —

" Certainly ; it would be to trespass on her kind-
ness, and I will not ask her for anything. Before
such judges as are here, and especially Herr Holz-
bauer, who directs the imperial theatre, you must not
compromise your pupil ; take care of that.'*

"Compromise her ! what are you thinking of? ** said
Porpora brusquely, shrugging his shoulders. " I heard

CONSUELO. 9

her this morning, and I know whether she risks com-
promising herself before your Germans."

This discussion was fortunately interrupted by the
arrival of a new guest. Every one made haste to
welcome him, and Consuelo, who had seen and heard
in Venice during her childhood this thin man with an
effeminate face, rude manners and the bearing of a
bully, whom she now saw aged, faded, uglier, ridicu-
lously curled and dressed with the bad taste of a
superannuated Celadon, recognized instantly, so vividly
did she recollect him, the incomparable, the inimita-
ble sopranist Majorano, called Caffarelli, or rather
Caffariello, as he is termed everywhere but in
France.

It would be impossible to find a more impertinent
coxcomb than this good Caffariello. The women had
spoiled him by their worship ; the applause of the
public had turned his head. He had been so hand-
some, or, to speak more properly, so pretty in his
youth, that he had made his debut in Italy in women's
roles ; but now that he was drawing near his fiftieth
year (he even appeared much older than his age, like
most sopranists) it was impossible to imagine him as
Dido or Galatea without having a great desire to
laugh. To atone for the oddity of his appearance,
he assumed the manners of a bully, and was perpetu-
ally shouting in his clear and sweet voice, without
being able to change its character. Yet there was a
good side to all this affectation and exuberance of
vanity. Caffariello felt the superiority of his talent

lO CONSUELO.

too strongly to be amiable ; he felt the dignity of his
position as an artist too clearly to be a courtier. He
held his own rashly and haughtily with the most im-
portant personages, even with sovereigns, and for that
reason he was not liked by vulgar flatterers, who were
condemned by his impertinence. The true friends of
art forgave him everything for the sake of his genius
as a singer; and in spite of all the cowardice with
which he was reproached as a man, people were
obliged to acknowledge that there were in his life
traits of courage and generosity as an artist.

It was not wilfully and deliberately that he had
shown negligence and a sort of ingratitude towards
Porpora. He recollected well enough having studied
with him eight years, and having learned from him all
that he knew ; but he recollected still more the day
when his master had said to him, " Now I have
nothing more to teach you. Go, my son, you are the
first singer in the world ! " And from that day,
Caffariello, who was really (after Farinelli) the first
singer in the world, had ceased to take an interest in
anything but himself. " Since I am the first," he said to
himself, " apparently I am the only one. The world
was created for me ; heaven has given genius to poets
and composers only to enable Caffariello to sing.
Porpora was the first singing- teacher in the world only
because he was to form Caffariello. Now, Porpora's
work is finished, his mission is accomplished, and it is
enough for the glory, the happiness and the immor-
tality of Porpora that Caffariello lives and sings."

CONSUELO, H

Cafifariello had lived and sung, he was rich and
triumphant, Porpora was poor and abandoned ; but
Caffariello was entirely unconcerned, and said to him-
self that he had gained quite enough gold and fame
for his master to be well repaid for having ushered
into the world such a prodigy as he.

12 CONSUELO.

CHAPTER II.

Caffariello saluted the assembly very slightly as
he came in, but he went and kissed Wilhelmina's hand
tenderly and respectfully, after which he accosted his
director Holzbauer with patronizing affability, and
shook the hand of his master Porpora with careless fa-
miliarity. Divided between the indignation caused by
his manners, and the necessity of keeping well with
him (for by asking for an opera from the master for
the theatre, and by assuming the principal role, Caffa-
riello might repair his fortunes), Porpora began to
compliment him and to question him about his tri-
umphs in France in a tone of mockery too delicate
for his vanity not to be deceived by it.

" France ! '' said Caffariello ; " do not speak to me
of France. It is the country of small music, small
musicians, small amateurs and small nobles. Fancy
a creature like Louis XV., who sent me by one of his
first gentlemen, after hearing me in half a dozen of
the Concerts Spirituels, — guess what ? A mean snuff-
box ! "

" But of gold, and set with valuable diamonds, no
doubt?'* said Porpora, ostentatiously drawing out his
own, which was only of olive wood.

"Oh, of course 1" replied the soprano; "but see
the impertinence 1 No portrait ! A simple snuff-box

CONSUELO. 13

o me, as if I needed a box to take snuff from ! Pah,
vhat royal vulgarity ! I was disgusted at it ! "

"And I hope," said Porpora, filling his sarcastic
Qose with tobacco, "that you gave this little king a
good lesson."

" I did not fail to, Corpo di Dio ! ' Sir,' said I to
the first gentleman, as I opened a drawer before his
dazzled eyes, ^ there are thirty snuff-boxes, the meanest
of which is worth thirty times as much as that you
offer me j and you see, besides, that other sovereigns
have not disdained to honor me with their miniatures.
Tell that to the king, your master. CafTariello is not
in need of snuff-boxes, thank God ! ' "

" Sangue di Bacco ! The king must have felt very
sheepish ! "

" Wait ! that is not all. The gentleman had the
insolence to reply to me that, in regard to strangers,
his majesty gave his portrait only to ambassadors."

" Oh, ho, the booby ! And what did you reply to
that?"

"'Listen, sir,' I said, 'know that you could not
make one Caffariello out of all the ambassadors in the
world.' "

" Admirable reply ! Ah, how I recognize my Caf-
fariello there ! And you did not accept his snuff-
box?"

" No, egad ! " replied Caffariello, drawing from his
pocket, in his preoccupation, a gold snuff-box set with
diamonds.

" It is not this one, by any chance ? " said Porpora,

14 CONSUELO.

looking at the box indifferently. " But tell me, did
you see our young Princess of Saxony there, — she
whom I taught to play the clavichord in Dresden
when the Queen of Poland, her mother, honored me
with her protection ? She was an amiable little prin-
cess.'*

" Marie-Josephine ? "

"Yes, the Dauphiness of France."

" Certainly, I saw her, intimately ! She is a very
good woman. Ah, what a good woman ! Upon my
honor, we are the best friends in the world. See !
she gave me that." And he showed an enormous
diamond which he had upon his finger.

" But they say that she shouted with laughter at
your reply to the king about his present."

" Certainly, she thought that I had replied very
well, and that the king, her father-in-law, had be-
haved like a snob."

"And she really told you that? "

" She gave me to understand it ; and she presented
me with a passport, signed by the king himself."

Every one who heard this dialogue turned away to
laugh in his sleeve. Buononcini, in recounting Caf-
fariello's exploits in France, had told, an hour before,
how the dauphiness, in handing him this passport,
made illustrious by the king's signature, had caused
him to remark that it was available for only ten days,
which was clearly equivalent to an order to leave the
kingdom as quickly as possible.

Caifariello, fearing that they would perhaps question

CONSUELO. 15

him about this circumstance, changed the conversa-
tion.

" Well, maestro/' said he to Porpora, " have you
formed many pupils in Venice of late? Have you
produced any of whom you have hope? "

" Do not speak to me of it ! " repKed Porpora.
"Since you, heaven has been niggardly and my
school unfruitful. When God had created man, he
rested. Since Porpora has created Caffariello, he has
folded his arms and been bored."

" Good master," replied Caffariello, charmed with
the compliment, which he accepted as wholly sincere,
" you are too indulgent to me. But yet you had
some pupils who gave promise, when I saw you at the
Scuola dei Mendicanti. You had already formed
little Gorilla, who was liked by the public. A beauti-
ful creature, upon my word ! "

"A beautiful creature, but nothing more."

"Nothing more, really?" said Herr Holzbauer,
whose ear was ever on the watch.

" Nothing more, I tell you," replied Porpora au-
thoritatively.

" It is well to know that," said Holzbauer, speaking
in his ear. " She arrived here last evening, quite ill,
from what I hear ; and yet this morning I received
propositions from her to join the court theatre."

" She is not what you need," replied Porpora.
"Your wife sings ten times — better than she ! " He
had nearly said — less badly ; but he was able to
catch himself in time.

1 6 CONSUELO.

" Thank you for your advice," said the director.

"What! no other pupil than Gorilla?^' Caffariello
resumed. "Is Venice run dry? I should like to go
there next spring with Tesi."

"Why do you not? "

" Because Tesi is infatuated with Dresden. Can I
not find a cat to mew in Venice ? I am not very par-
ticular myself, and neither is the public, when there
is a singer of my quality to carry the whole opera.
A pretty voice, teachable and intelligent, will answer
for the duets. Ah, by the way, maestro, what have you
done with a little blackamoor that you had there ? "

" I have taught a number of blackamoors."

" Oh, this one had a prodigious voice, and I recol-
lect that I told you as I listened to her, ' There is a
little fright who will do great things.* I even amused
myself by singing her something. Poor child ! she
cried from admiration."

" Ah, ha ! " said Porpora, looking at Consuelo, who
became as red as the master's nose.

" What the devil was her name ? It was a strange
name — come, you must recollect, maestro ; she was
as ugly as a fiend."

" It was I," replied Consuelo, who frankly and
good-naturedly put aside her embarrassment, to come
forward and salute Caffariello gayly and respectfully.

Caffariello was not disconcerted by so little.

" You? " he said quickly, taking her hand. " You
lie ; for you are a very handsome girl, and she of
whom I speak " —

CONSUELO. 17

" Oh, it is certainly II" returned Consuelo.
" Look at me well. You must know me. I am the
same Consuelo."

" Consuelo ! yes, that was her infernal name. But
I do not recognize you at all, and I am afraid that
they have changed you. My child, if, in acquiring
beauty, you have lost the voice and talent of which
you gave promise, you would have done better to re-
main ugly."

*' I want you to hear her," said Porpora, who was
burning to exhibit his pupil before Holzbauer. He
pushed Consuelo to the clavichord, somewhat against
her will ; for it was long since she had faced a culti-
vated audience, and she was not at all prepared to
sing that evening.

" You are hoaxing me," said Caffariello. " She is
not the one I saw in Venice."

"You will see," repHed Porpora.

" Really, master, it is a cruelty to make me sing
when I have still fifty leagues of dust in my throat,"
said Consuelo timidly.

" No matter, sing ! " replied the maestro.

" Do not be afraid of me, my child," said Caffariello.
*' I know how indulgent I must be, and to drive away
your fear, I will sing with you, if you like."

"On that condition, I will consent," she replied,
" and the pleasure which I shall have in hearing you
will keep me from thinking of myself."

"What can we sing together?" said Caffariello to
Porpora. " Do you choose a duet."

l8 CONSUELO,

" Choose one yourself," replied the master. " There
is nothing which she cannot sing with you."

"Well, then, something of yours, for I should like
to give you pleasure to-day, maestro ; and besides, I
know that Signora Wilhelmina has all your music,
bound and gilded with oriental luxury,"

" Yes," grumbled Porpora, between his teeth ; " my
works are better dressed than I am."

Caffariello looked through the books and chose a
duet from the " Eumene," an opera which the master
had written at Rome for Farinelli. He sang the first
solo with a breadth, perfection and masterly manner
which caused all his absurdities to be forgotten in a
moment, leaving roorn only for admiration and enthu-
siasm. Consuelo felt animated and enlivened by all
the power of this extraordinary man, and she sang the
woman's solo in her turn better, perhaps, than she had
ever sung in her life. Caffariello did not wait till she
had ended to interrupt her with explosions of
applause.

" Ah, my dear ! " he cried repeatedly, " now I
recognize you. You are undoubtedly the marvellous
child whom I remarked in Venice ; but now, my
daughter, you are a prodigy. It is Caffariello who
says it."

Wilhelmina was a little surprised and somewhat dis-
concerted to find Consuelo more powerful than in
Venice. In spite of the pleasure of having the Vienna
debut of such a talent in her drawing-room, she could
not, without a certain annoyance and chagrin, see her-

CONSUELO. T9

self reduced to never daring to sing for her visitors
after such an artist. Nevertheless, she displayed her
admiration very noisily. Holzbauer, still smiling, but
fearing that he would not find enough money in his
coffers to pay such a talent, preserved, amid these
praises, a diplomatic reserve ; Buononcini declared
that Consuelo surpassed Madame Hasse and Madame
Cuzzoni. The ambassador became so transported
that Wilhelmina was frightened, especially when she
saw him take a large sapphire from his finger and
place it on that of Consuelo, who did not dare either
to refuse or to accept. They asked frantically to have
the duo over again, but the door opened and the
lackey, with respectful solemnity, announced Count
Hoditz. Every one rose with that movement of in-
stinctive respect which is paid, not to the most illus-
trious or the most worthy, but to the richest.

" I certainly am unlucky, ^^ thought Consuelo, '^ to
meet here at the outset, and without having had time
to speak to them, two persons who saw me on my
journey with Joseph, and who have no doubt received
a false idea of my morals and my relations to him.
Never mind, good and honest Joseph ; at the cost of
all calumnies to which our friendship may give rise, I
will never disown it, either in my heart or my words."

Count Hoditz, covered with gold and embroideries,
advanced towards Wilhelmina, and, from the manner
in which he kissed her hand, Consuelo understood the
difference between such a mistress of a house, and the
haughty, patrician dames whom she had seen in

20 CONSUELO,

Venice. People were more gallant, more amiable,
more gay, in Wilhelmina's house ; but they spoke
more rapidly, they walked less Hghtly, crossed their
legs higher, turned their backs to the fireplace ; in
short, they were different men from what they were in
the official world. They seemed to enjoy themselves
more in this unconstraint ; but there was at bottom
something offensive and contemptuous, which Con-
suelo felt at once, although this something was almost
imperceptible, masked as it was by the habits of the
great world and the consideration which they owed
the ambassador.

Count Hoditz was remarkable above them all for
this fine shade of freedom which, far from offending
Wilhelmina, appeared to her only a greater homage.
Consuelo suffered from it only for the sake of this
poor creature whose satisfied vanity appeared con-
temptible to her. She was not annoyed for herself; a
Zingarella, she laid claim to nothing, and not exacting
even a glance, she cared little whether the salutations
made her were two or three inches higher or lower.
" I have come here to ply my trade as a singer," she
thought, " and so long as they commend me when I
have finished, I ask only to remain unnoticed in a
corner ; but this woman, who mingles her vanity with
her love (if, indeed, she mingles any love with so
much vanity), how she would blush if she saw the
contempt and irony concealed beneath such gallant
and complimentary manners ! *'

They made her sing again ; they praised her to the

CONSUELO. 21

skies, and she literally shared the honors of the even-
ing with Caffariello. At every moment she expected
to be addressed by Count Hoditz, and to be obliged
to support the fire of some sarcastic compliment.
But, strange to say, Count Hoditz did not come near
the clavichord, towards which she kept herself turned,
that he might not see her features ; and when he had
inquired her name and her age he appeared never to
have heard of her. The fact is, that he had not
received the note which Consuelo had sent him by
the deserter's wife. He was, moreover, very near-
sighted ; and as it was not fashionable then to use an
eyeglass in a drawing-room, he could see but indis-
tinctly the pale face of the cantatrice. It may, per-
haps, seem surprising that, music-lover as he prided
himself on being, he had not the curiosity to take a
nearer view of so remarkable a virtuoso ; but it must
be remembered that the Moravian lord cared only for
his own music, his own method and his own singers.
Great talents aroused no interest or sympathy in him ;
he loved to depreciate their exactions and their pre-
tensions in his own esteem. And when he was told that
Faustina Bordoni earned fifty thousand francs a year in
London, and Farinelli a hundred and fifty thousand, he
shrugged his shoulders, and said that he had in his
theatre at Roswald, in Moravia, at a salary of five
hundred francs a year, singers formed by him who
were worth Farinelli, Bordoni, and Signor Caffariello
into the bargain.

The fine airs of Caffariello were especially distaste-

22 CONSUELO,

ful and insupportable to him, because in his own
sphere Count Hoditz had the same weaknesses and
the same absurdities. Boasters may be displeasing to
modest and sensitive people, but it is other boasters
especially that they fill with aversion and disgust.
Every vain man detests those who are like him, and
scoffs at the vice in them which he displays in himself.
While they were listening to Caffariello's singing,
nobody thought of the fortune and the dilettantism of
Count Hoditz. While Caffariello was uttering his
boasts. Count Hoditz could find no opportunity for
his; in short, they were in each other's way. No
room was large enough, no audience attentive enough,
to entertain and content two men, eaten up by
so much " approbativeness," to use the phrenological
language of our own day.

A third reason prevented Count Hoditz from recog-
nizing the Bertoni of Passau ; this was that he had
hardly looked at him there, and would have had great
difficulty in recognizing him, transformed as he now
was. He had seen a little girl, " well enough made,"
as they then said, in speaking of a passable person ;
he had heard a pretty voice, fresh and flexible ; he had
recognized a teachable intelligence ; he had not felt or
divined anything more, and he needed nothing more
for his Roswald theatre. Being rich, he was accus-
tomed to buy everything that suited him without too
careful examination or parsimonious bargaining.

He had wished to buy Consuelo's talent and person
as we buy a knife at Chatellerault or glassware in

CONSUELO, 23

Venice. The bargain had not been concluded, and
as he had never had a moment's love for her, he
never had a moment's regret. Mortification had
somewhat disturbed his awakening at Passau ; but
people who have great self-esteem do not suffer long
from a check of this sort. They forget quickly ; does
not the world belong to them, especially when they are
rich? ** One adventure lost, a hundred found ! " said
the noble count to himself. He whispered to Wilhel-
mina during the last piece which Consuelo sang, and
seeing that Porpora cast furious glances at him, he
soon went out, without having had any pleasure
among these pedantic and ill-bred musicians.

24 CONSUELO.

CHAPTER III.

CoNSUELo's first impulse, when she returned to her
chamber, was to write to Albert ; but she soon per-
ceived that this was not so easy as she had imagined.
In a first draft she was beginning to relate to him all
the incidents of her journey, when she was seized with
the fear of exciting him too greatly by the picture of
her fatigues and dangers which she was laying before
his eyes. She remembered the sort of delirious fury
which had taken possession of him when she had told
him in the cavern of the perils which she had braved
in order to reach him. She destroyed this letter,
therefore, and thinking that so profound a mind and
so impressionable an organization would need the
manifestation of a ruling idea and a single sentiment,
she resolved to spare him all disturbing details, and to
express to him, in a few words, nothing but plighted
love and sworn fidelity. But these few words could
not be vague ; if they were not completely affirmative,
they would give cause for frightful anguish and dread.
How could she affirm that she had at last recognized
in herself the existence of that absolute love and un-
shakable resolution which Albert needed to enable
him to exist while waiting for her? Consuelo's sin-
cerity and honor could not bend to a half truth.
When she strictly questioned her heart and her con-

CONSUELO. 25

science, she found in them the strength and calmness
given by the victory won over Anzoleto. She found
also in respect to love and passion, the most complete
indifference towards every man but Albert ; but the
sort of love and serious enthusiasm which she felt for
him was still the same sentiment which she had felt
when with him. It was not enough that the memory
of Anzoleto should be driven out, that he himself
should be absent, for Count Albert to become the
object of a violent passion in the heart of this young
girl. It was not her fault that she could not remem-
ber without terror the mental disease of poor Albert,
the sad solemnity of the Castle of the Giants, the
aristocratic dislikes of the canoness, the murder of
Zdenko, the dismal grotto of the Schreckenstein, — in
short, all that strange and sombre life which she had
dreamed, as it were, in Bohemia ; for after having
breathed the free air of vagabondage upon the peaks
of the Boehmerwald, and finding herself surrounded
by music, now that she was with Porpora, she could
think of Bohemia only as a nightmare. Although she
had resisted the brutal artistic aphorisms of Porpora,
she found herself back in an existence so appropriate
to her education, her faculties and her habits of mind,
that she could no longer conceive of the possibility
of transforming herself into the mistress of Reisen-
burg.

What could she tell Albert, then? What more
could she promise and affirm to him ? Had she not
the same irresolution, the same fright, as on her de-

26 CONSUELO.

parture from the castle? If she had taken refuge in
Vienna rather than anywhere else, it was because there
she was under the protection of the only legitimate
authority which she could recognize. Porpora was
her benefactor, her father, her support and her master
in the most religious acceptation of that word. By his
side, she no longer felt herself an orphan, and she no
longer believed that she had the right to dispose of
herself according to the inspiration of her heart or
her reason alone. Now Porpora condemned, ridi-
culed and energetically rejected the idea of a mar-
riage which he regarded as the destruction of a genius,
the immolation of a great future to the fancies of a
romantic devotion. At Reisenburg, also, there was
a generous, noble and tender old man, who was offer-
ing himself to Consuelo as a father ; but can one
change fathers according to the needs of the situa-
tion? When Porpora said "no," could Consuelo
accept Count Christian's "yes?'*

This neither could nor should be, and it was neces-
sary to wait for what Porpora should decide when he
had made a better examination of facts and feelings.
But, while awaiting this confirmation or reversal of his
judgment, what could she say to the unfortunate
Albert to cause him to be patient and hopeful ? To
reveal Porpora's first outburst of dissatisfaction would
be to overthrow all Albert's security; to conceal it
would be to deceive him, and Consuelo did not wish
to dissemble. Had the life of this noble young man
depended upon a lie, Consuelo would not have uttered

CONSUELO, 27

it. There are beings whom one respects too much to
deceive them, even for their own salvation.

Consequently, she began twenty letters without
being able to make up her mind to continue one of
them. In whatever way she put it, at the third word
she always made a rash assertion or expressed a doubt
which might have disastrous effects. She went to
bed, overwhelmed by fatigue, grief and anxiety, and
suffered for a long while from cold and sleeplessness,
without being able to form any resolution, or any
clear conception of her future and her fate. She
finally went to sleep, and remained in bed until Por-
pora, who was a very early riser, had gone out about
his business. She found Haydn occupied, as on the
day before, in brushing the clothes and arranging the
furniture of his new master.

" Come, lovely sleeper," he cried, when at last he
saw his friend appear, " I die of ennui, sadness,
and, above all, fear, when I do not see you, like a
guardian angel, between this terrible professor and
me. It seems to me that he is always about to dis-
cover my intentions, to baffle our designs and shut
me up in his old clavichord to die of harmonious
suffocation. He makes my hair stand on end, does
your Porpora, and I cannot convince myself that he is
not an old Italian devil, the Satan of that country
being notoriously much more wicked and wily than
ours."

" Do not be uneasy, my friend," replied Consuelo ;
" our master is only unfortunate ; he is not bad. Let

28 CONSUELO.

us begin by making every effort to give him a little
happiness, and we will see him grow gentler and re-
turn to his true character. In my childhood he was
cordial and playful ; he was quoted for the wit and
brightness of his repartees ; then he had success,
friends and hope. If you had only known him at the
time when they sang his * Polifemo ' at the San Mose
theatre, when he took me on the stage with him and
placed me in the wings, where I could see the super-
numeraries and the head of the giant ! How beauti-
ful and terrible it all seemed to me from my little
corner ! Crouching behind a pasteboard rock, or
hanging from a ladder, I hardly dared to breathe ;
and, in spite of myself, with my head and my little
arms, I imitated all the gestures and motions which the
actors made. And when the master was called upon
the stage and obliged, by the shouts of the audience,
to go before the curtain seven times, it appeared to
me that he was a god ; for he was handsome from
pride and exaltation at that moment. Alas ! he is
not very old yet, and how changed, how broken he is !
Come, Joseph, let us set to work, that when he returns
he may find his poor lodging a little more pleasant
than when he left it. In the first place, I will look
over his clothes, to see what he lacks."

" It will take a good while to find out what he
lacks, but it will be easy to see what he has,'^ replied
Joseph, " for I know no wardrobe except my own
which is poorer and in worse condition."

" Well, I will supply yours, also, for I am in your

CONSUELO. 29

debt, Joseph ; you fed and clothed me through our
whole journey. Let us attend to Porpora first. Open
that wardrobe. What ! Only one coat, — that which
he wore to the ambassador's last night?"

" Alas, yes ! a maroon coat with cut- steel buttons,
and not very fresh at that. The other, which is pitifully
worn and shabby, he put on to go out. As for his
dressing-gown, I do not know whether it ever existed,
but I have been looking for it in vain for an hour."

Consuelo and Joseph, having searched everywhere,
discovered that Porpora's dressing-gown was a chimera
of their imaginations, as likewise his top-coat and his
muff. On counting his shirts, they found only three,
in rags ; his cuffs were in ruins, and so with everything
else.

"Joseph," said Consuelo, "here is a handsome ring
which was given me last evening in payment of my
singing. I do not wish to sell it, for that might
attract attention and disgust the giver with my cupid-
ity. But I can pawn it, and borrow on it what money
we need. Keller is honest and intelligent; he will
know the value of this ring, and he can certainly find
some usurer who will advance me a good sum upon
it. Go and attend to it and hurry back.

" It can be quickly done," replied Joseph. " There
is a kind of Israelitish jeweller in Keller's house, and
as the latter is the factotum in affairs of this sort for
more than one fine lady, he will get you the money in
an hour. But I wish nothing for myself, Consuelo, do
you understand? You yourself stand in great need

30 CONSUELO,

of dresses, for your whole wardrobe made the journey
on my shoulder, and you may be obliged to appear
to-morrow, or even to-night, perhaps, in a gown some-
what less shabby than this."

" We will settle our accounts by and by, and as I
choose, Beppo. As I did not refuse your services, I
have the right to insist that you do not refuse mine.
Come, hurry to Keller ! "

An hour later Haydn returned with Keller and fif-
teen hundred florins. Consuelo having explained her
intentions, Keller went out and soon returned with a
tailor whom he knew, a clever and expeditious man,
who, having taken the measure of Porpora's coat and
the other articles of his apparel, agreed to provide in
a few days two complete suits and a wadded dressing-
gown, as well as linen and the other necessary articles
of his toilet, which he undertook to order from semp-
stresses whom he could recommend.

" Now," said Consuelo, when the tailor had gone,
" I must have the utmost secrecy about all this. My
master is as proud as he is poor, and he would cer-
tainly throw my poor gifts out of the window if he
only suspected that they came from me."

" How will you manage, signora," said Joseph, " to
make him put on the new clothes and give up the old
without noticing it? "

" Oh, I know him, and I assure you that he will
never observe it. I know how to arrange that."

"And now, signora," said Joseph, who had the
good taste, except when alone with her, to speak very

CONSUELO. 31

ceremoniously to his friend, that he might not give a
false opinion of the nature of their friendship, f* will
you not think of yourself also ? You brought almost
nothing with you from Bohemia, and besides, your
clothes are not in the fashion of this country. '^

" I was near forgetting that important affair ! This
good Herr Keller must be my adviser and guide."

" Oh, certainly ! " replied Keller. " I understand
that sort of thing perfectly, and if I do not have you
dressed in the best of taste you may call me ignorant
and presumptuous."

'^ I leave it all to you, my good Keller ; only, I
must tell you, as a general direction, that I prefer
simplicity, and that striking garments and glaring
colors do not suit either my habitual pallor or my quiet
tastes."

*' You do me injustice, signora, by thinking that I
need this warning. Does not my trade teach me the
colors which suit different faces, and do I not see in
yours what will be becoming to you? Make yourself
easy ; you will be satisfied with me, and you will soon
be able to appear at court, if you please, without
ceasing to be as modest and simple as you are now.
To beautify the face and not to change it is the whole
art of the hair-dresser and the costumer."

'^ One word more in your ear, my dear Herr
Keller," said Consuelo, leading the hair-dresser apart
from Joseph. *' You will also have Master Haydn
fitted out from head to foot, and with the remainder
of the money you will present your daughter for me

32 CONSUELO.

with a handsome silk gown for the day of her mar-
riage with him. I hope that it will not be delayed
very long ; for if I have a success here I may be use-
ful to our friend and help him to become known.
He has talent, and a great deal of it, you may be
sure of that."

" Has he really, signora ? I am glad of what you
tell me ; I always suspected it. What am I saying ?
I was sure of it, the first time that I noticed him, a
little choir-boy in the singing- school."

"He is a noble fellow," replied Consuelo, "and
you will be repaid by his gratitude and honesty for
what you have done for him ; for you, too, Keller, are
a worthy and noble-hearted man, I know it well.
Now tell us," she added, returning with Keller to
Joseph, "whether you have already done what we
agreed upon in regard to Joseph's protectors. The
idea was yours ; have you put it into execution? "

" Yes, indeed, I have, signora," replied Keller.
" To say and to do are all one with your servant.
When I went to attend to my customers this morn-
ing, I first warned my lord, the Venetian ambassador
(I have not the honor of dressing his hair, but I ar-
range his secretary's), then the Abbe Metastasio, whom
I shave every morning, and Mademoiselle Marianna
Martines, his ward, whose head is also in my charge.
They live in my house ; that is, I live in their house —
never mind ! Then I saw several other persons who
likewise know Joseph's face, and whom there is dan-
ger of his meeting here. Those who are not my cus-

CONSUELO. 33

tomers I approached on onQ pretext or another ; * I
heard that your excellency was seeking for bear's-
grease, and I hasten to bring you some which I
can guarantee. I offer it gratis as a sample, and
only ask your custom for this article if you are satis-
fied with it.* Or else, ^ Here is a prayer-book which
was left at St. Stephen's last Sunday ; and as I dress
the cathedral's hair (that is, the hair of the dignita-
ries of the cathedral), I have been directed to ask
your excellency if this book does not belong to you.'
It was an old volume, bound in gilded leather, and
stamped with the coat of arms, which I took from the
stall of one of the canons, knowing that nobody would
claim it. At last, when I had succeeded in gaining a
hearing on one prqtext or another, I would begin to
gossip with the coolness and wit which are tolerated
in people of my profession. I would say, for in-
stance, ^ I have heard a great deal about your lord-
ship from a skilful musician, who is a friend of mine,
Joseph Haydn ; it was that which emboldened me to
present myself at your lordship's respectable mansion.'
— 'What, little Joseph ! ' they would say ; ' a charming
talent, a young man of great promise.' — ' Ah, really ! *
I would reply, delighted to come to the point. * Your
lordship must be amused at the singular but fortunate
experience which he is just having.' — 'What is it?
I have heard nothing of it.' — 'Oh, nothing could be
more comical, and at the same time more interesting !
He has become a valet.' — ' What ! a valet, he ? Oh,
what a degradation, what a misfortune for such a

34 CONSUELO.

talent! Is he so very poor? I will help him.' —
^ That is not the trouble, my lord/ I would reply ; ^ it
is the love of art which has caused him to take this
singular resolution. He was determined at any cost
to have lessons from the illustrious Maestro Porpora' —
* Ah, yes ! I know about that, and Porpora refused to
hear or receive him. He is a very ill-natured and
morose man of genius.* — * He is a great man, a noble-
hearted man,' I would reply, in accordance with the
wishes of Signora Consuelo, who desires not to have
her master laughed at or blamed in all this. ' Be sure,*
I would add, ' that he will soon recognize little
Haydn's great ability, and will give him his best care ;
but not to irritate him in his melancholy, and to gain
a footing in his house without arousing his suspicions,
Joseph could find no more ingenious device than to
become his servant, and to pretend the most complete
ignorance of music' — ' The idea is touching, charm-
ing,' they would reply, quite moved ; * but he must
make haste and secure Porpora's favor before he is
recognized and pointed out to him as a remarkable
artist, for young Haydn is already loved and pro-
tected by some people who are themselves visitors at
Porpora's house.' — ' These persons,' I would then
say in an insinuating tone, ^are too generous, too
noble, not to keep Joseph's secret as long as it may
be necessary, and not to dissemble a little with Por-
pora, that he may preserve his confidence.' — ^ Oh,
it will not be I who betrays the good, the skilful mu-
sician Joseph ! You may give him my word for that ;

CONSUELO, 35

and I will forbid my servants to allow any imprudent
word to escape within reach of the ears of the
master.' Then they would send me away with a
little present, or an order for bear's-grease ; and as
for the secretary of the embassy, he took a lively in-
terest in the adventure, and promised to tell it to
Monsignor Corner at his breakfast, so that he, who is
especially fond of Joseph, may be the first to be on
his guard with Porpora. So my diplomatic mission is
ended. Are you satisfied, signora? "

^^ If I were a queen, I would make you an ambas-
sador at once,'' replied Consuelo. " But I see my
master in the street, coming home. Hurry away,
dear Keller, that he may not see you."

" Why should I go away, signora ? I will begin to
dress your hair, and he will think that you sent for
the nearest hair-dresser by your valet Joseph."

"He has a hundred times more wit than we,"
said Consuelo to Joseph, and she yielded her black
hair to the hands of Keller, while Joseph resumed his
brush and his apron, and Porpora came heavily up
the stairs, humming a phrase of his future opera.

^(^ CONSUELO,

CHAPTER IV.

As he was naturally very absent-minded, Porpora,
when he kissed the brow of his adopted daughter, did
not even notice Keller, who was at work on her hair,
but began to seek in his music for the manuscript of
the phrase which was running in his head. When he
saw his papers, which were usually scattered over the
clavichord in incomparable confusion, arranged in
symmetrical piles, he awoke from his abstraction and
cried, —

" Miserable rascal ! He has dared to touch my
manuscripts ! That is the way with all servants.
When they pile things up they think they are
arranging them. I was a wise man to take one !
This is the beginning of my misfortunes ! '*

" Pardon me, master," replied Consuelo ; " your
music was in chaos."

" I knew my way in that chaos ! I could get up at
night and pick up in the dark any passage of my
opera. Now I know nothing, — -I' am lost; it will
take me a month to find everything again !"

" No, master, you will find your way at once.
Besides, it is I who did it, and although the pages
were not numbered, I believe that I have placed
every leaf in its place. See ! I am sure that you
will read more easily in the book that I have made of

CONSUELO. 37

it than in all these loose leaves which a gust of wind
might carry out of the window."

" A gust of wind ! Do you take my room for the
Fusine Lagoon? "

"If not a gust of wind, the draught from a duster
or a broom."

" What does he want to sweep and dust my room
for? I have lived in it for a fortnight, and I have let
no one go into it."

" So I observed," thought Joseph.

" Well, master, you must allow me to change this
habit. It is unhealthy to sleep in a room which is not
cleaned and aired every day. I will undertake to
restore the disorder which you like when Beppo has
swept and arranged the room."

"Beppo, Beppo? Who is that? I don't know any
Beppo."

"He is Beppo," said Consuelo, pointing to Joseph.
" His name was so hard to pronounce that your ears
would have been wounded by it. I gave him the first
Venetian name which came into my head. Beppo is
good ; it is short, and it can be sung."

" As you like," said Porpora, who was becoming
milder as he turr^d over the leaves of his opera, and
found it faultlessly collected and sewn into a single
book.

"Confess, master," said Consuelo, seeing him smile,
" that it is more convenient in that form."

" Ah, you always insist on being right," replied the
master ; " you will be obstinate all your life."

38 CONSUELO.

"Master, have you breakfasted?" said Consuelo,
whom Keller had just set at liberty.

" Have you breakfasted yourself ? " replied Porpora,
wi h a mixture of impatience and solicitude.

" I have breakfasted. And you, master? '*

" And this boy, this — Beppo ; has he eaten any-
thing?"

" He has breakfasted. And you, master? "

" And you, master ! And you, master ! Go to the
devil with your questions ! What business is it of
yours?"

" Master, you have not breakfasted."

" Ah, I see that the devil has come into my house !
She will give me no peace now ! Come here and
sing me this phrase. Attention, if you please."

Consuelo went up to the clavichord and sang the
phrase, while Keller, who was a thorough dilettante,
stood at the other end of the room, comb in hand
and open-mouthed. The maestro, who was not satis-
fied with his phrase, made her repeat it thirty times,
now making her accentuate certain notes, now cer-
tain others, seeking the shade which he desired with
a persistence which could be equalled only by the
patience and submissiveness of Consuelo. During
this time, Joseph, at a sign from her, had gone to
fetch the chocolate which she had prepared while
Keller was about his errands. He brought it, and,
guessing his friend's wishes, placed it quietly upon
the clavichord, without attracting the attention of the
master, who took it mechanically a moment later.

CONSUELO. 39

poured it into the cup, and swallowed it with an
excellent appetite. A second cup was brought, and
swallowed in the same way, with a reenforcement of
bread and butter ; and Consuelo, who was in a teasing
mood, said to him, when she saw him eat with
pleasure, —

" I knew, master, that you had not breakfasted."

" It is true," he repUed good-naturedly. " I
must have forgotten it. It often happens to me when
I am composing, and I only notice it during the day,
when I have cramps and spasms in my stomach."

"And then you drink brandy, master?"

" Who told you that, litde fool? "

" I found the bottle."

" Well, what business is it of yours ? Are you
going to forbid me brandy? "

"Yes, I will forbid it. You drank very little in
Venice, and you felt well."

" That is true," said Porpora sadly. " It seemed to
me that everything went badly there, and that here it
would be better. Yet everything is going from bad
to worse with me. Fortune, health, ideas, — every-
thing ! " And he leaned his head on his hands.

" Do you wish me to tell you why you find diffi-
culty in working here?" repUed Consuelo, who
wished to distract his mind, by these trifles, from the
feeling of discouragement which had taken posses-
sion of him. " It is because you have not your good
Venetian coffee, which gives so much strength and
gayety. You wish to excite yourself, after the manner

40' CONSUELO.

of the Germans, with beer and Uquors, and it does
not suit you."

" Ah, true again ! My good Venetian coffee ! It
was an inexhaustible source of bon-mots and fine
ideas. It was genius, it was wit, which ran in my
veins with a gentle heat. All that one drinks here
makes one mournful or mad."

"Well, master, take your coffee."

" Coffee ? Here ? I do not want it. It is too
much trouble. It needs fire, a servant, dishes which
are washed, clattered, broken with a discordant noise
in the midst of an harmonic combination. No, I will
have none of it ! My bottle, on the floor, between
my legs ; it is more convenient and quicker."

"But that can be broken too. I broke it this
morning, putting it in the cupboard."

" You have broken my bottle ! I do not know,
you little fright, why I do not break my cane over
your shoulders ! "

" Bah ! you have been telling me that for fifteen
years, and you have never given me even a fillip. I
am not in the least afraid."

"Chatterer! Will you sing? Will you help me
out with this accursed phrase ? I will wager that you
do not know it yet, you are so absent-minded this
morning."

" You will see whether I do not know it by heart,"
said Consuelo, closing the book abruptly.

She sang it as she understood it ; that is to say,
differently from Porpora. Knowing his humor,

CONSUELO. 41

although she had understood at the first reading that
he had become involved in the expression of his
idea, and that by laboring at it he had distorted the
sentiment, she would not allow herself to give him
advice. He would have rejected it from a spirit of
contradiction ; but by singing him this phrase in the
proper manner, while pretending to commit an error
of memory, she was sure that he would be struck.
He had hardly heard it, when he sprang from his
chair, clapping his hands and crying, —

"That is it ! That is it ! That is what I wanted
and could not find ! How the devil did it come to
you?"

" Is it not as you wrote it, or is it chance ? Yes,
it is your phrase."

" No, it is yours, you little cheat ! " cried Porpora,
who was candor itself, and who, in spite of his dis-
eased and immoderate love of glory, would never
from vanity have claimed anything not his own ;
"it is you who found it. Repeat it to me. It is
good, and I will use it."

Consuelo repeated it several times, and Porpora
wrote it down from her dictation. Then he pressed
his pupil to his heart, saying, —

" You are the devil ! I always thought that you
were the devil ! "

Porpora, delighted at having his phrase after a
whole morning of profitless worry and musical tor-
ment, sought mechanically on the ground for the neck
of his bottle, and not finding it, began to feel about

42 CONSUELO.

on the clavichord, and swallowed carelessly what he
found there. It was exquisite coffee, which Consuelo
had skilfully and patiently prepared at the same time
as the chocolate, and which Joseph had just brought,
burning hot, at a new sign from his friend.

" Oh, nectar of the gods ! Oh, friend of musicians ! "
cried Porpora when he tasted it ; " who is the angel,
who is the fairy, who brought thee from Venice be-
neath her wing?"

" It was the devil," replied Consuelo.

"You are an angel and a fairy, my poor child,"
said Porpora gently, as he leaned his head upon his
hand. " I see that you love me, that you take care
of me, that you wish to make me happy ! Even this
honest fellow, who takes an interest in my fate," he
added, seeing Joseph, who, erect upon the threshold
of the door, was looking at him with moist and glit-
tering eyes. "Ah, my poor children, you wish to
soften a very deplorable lot ! You know not what
you do ! I am doomed to wretchedness, and a few
days of sympathy and happiness will make me feel
more acutely the horror of my destiny when these
happy days have flown."

" I will never leave you ; I will always be your
daughter and your servant," said Consuelo, throwing
her arms about his neck.

Porpora buried his bald head in his music-book, and
burst into tears. Consuelo and Joseph wept also, and
Keller, who had remained from his love of music,
and who, to excuse his presence, was arranging the

CONSUELO. 43

master's periwig in the ante-chamber, seeing through
the open door the respectable and harrowing picture
of his grief, Consuelo's fihal piety and the devotion
which was beginning to stir Joseph's heart for the
illustrious old man, dropped his comb, and taking
Porpora's wig for a handkerchief, raised it to his eyes,
plunged as he was in a noble absent-mindedness.

Consuelo was kept in the house for several days by
a cold. She had braved, during her long and advent-
urous journey, all the inclemency of the weather, all
the changes of autumn, — now hot, now cold and rainy,
according to the localities through which she passed.
Lighdy clad, with a straw hat, with no cloak nor
change of raiment when she was wet, she had not,
nevertheless, had the slightest hoarseness. But hardly
was she shut up in this dark, damp and ill-aired lodg-
ing of Porpora's, when she felt cold and illness par-
alyze her energy and her voice. Porpora was greatly
annoyed at this occurrence. He knew that it was
necessary to hasten if he would obtain an engagement
for his pupil at the Italian opera ; for Madame Tesi,
who had wished to go to Dresden, seemed to be hesi-
tating, tempted by the urging of Caffariello and the
brilliant propositions of Holzbauer, anxious to attach
so famous a singer to the imperial theatre. Gorilla,
moreover, who was still in bed from the effects of her
confinement, was making the friends whom she had
found in Vienna intrigue with the directors, and
declared that she could make her debut within a week
if they needed her. Porpora ardently desired that

44 CONSUELO.

Consuelo should be engaged, both for her own sake
and for the sake of the opera which he hoped to have
accepted along with her.

Consuelo, for her part, did not know what to decide.
If she accepted an engagement, she would postpone
the moment of her possible union with Albert ; it
would fill the Rudolstadts with dread and consterna-
tion, for they certainly did not expect her to return to
the stage. It would be, in their opinion, to renounce
the honor of belonging to them, and to signify to the
young count that she preferred glory and liberty to
him. On the other hand, if she refused this engage-
ment, she would destroy Porpora's last hope ; she
would show him, in her turn, that ingratitude which
had occasioned the despair and the misfortunes of his
life ; she would stab him to the heart. Consuelo,
frightened at finding herself in this dilemma, and see-
ing that she must inflict a fatal blow, whichever course
she chose, sank into a dreary melancholy. Her robust
constitution preserved her from a serious indisposition,
but during these few days of anguish and dread, suf-
fering from feverish chills and a painful languor,
crouching over a scanty fire, and dragging herself from
one room to another, busy about the affairs of the
household, she wished and mournfully hoped that a
serious illness would come to free her from the duties
and the anxieties of her situation.

Porpora's humor, which had brightened for a short
space, grew lowering, quarrelsome and unjust when he
saw Consuelo, the source of his hope and the seat of

CONSUELO. 45

his strength, become suddenly prostrate and irresolute.
Instead of sustaining her and reviving her by enthu-
siasm and tenderness, he displayed an unhealthy
impatience which gave the finishing touch to her con-
sternation. By turns weak and violent, the tender but
irascible old man, devoured by that same spleen which
was soon to consume Jean-Jacques Rousseau, saw
enemies, persecutors and ingrates on every side, without
perceiving that his suspicions, his outbursts and his
injustice provoked and inspired to some extent the
evil intentions and acts with which he charged them.

The first impulse of those whom he wounded in this
way was to consider him mad ; the second, to regard
him as wicked and spiteful ; the third, to leave him,
to avoid him and to avenge themselves upon him.
Between cowardly compliance and bitter misanthropy,
there is a mean which Porpora did not know, and
which he never attained.

Consuelo, after some useless efforts, seeing that he
was less disposed than ever to allow her love and
marriage, resigned herself to avoiding discussions
which more and more imbittered the prejudices of her
unfortunate master. She never pronounced Albert's
name, and held herself ready to sign any engagement
which Porpora might impose upon her. When she
was alone with Joseph, she found some comfort in
opening her heart to him.

"What a strange destiny is mine ! " she would often
say to him. " Heaven has given me faculties and a
soul for art, the need of liberty, the love of a proud

46 CONSUELO.

and chaste independence ; but at the same time, in-
stead of giving me that cold and savage selfishness
which supplies artists with the strength necessary to
make their way through the difficulties and seductions
of life, the divine will has placed in my breast a
tender and sensitive heart which beats only for others,
and which lives only in affection and devotion. Thus,
torn by two conflicting forces, my life is wasted and
my object always missed. If I am born to devote
myself to others, let God take from my head poetry,
the love of art and the instinct of liberty, which make
a torture and an agony of that devotion. If I am bom
for art and liberty, let him take from my heart pity,
friendship, solicitude and the fear of causing suffering,
which will always poison my triumphs and trammel
my career."

"If I dared to advise you, my poor Consuelo,"
replied Haydn, " it would be to listen to the voice of
your genius and to stifle that of your heart. But I
know you well now, and I know that you could not
do it."

" No, I cannot do it, Joseph, and it seems to me
that I never shall be able to do it. But observe my
misfortune, observe the complication of my strange
and unhappy lot ! Even in the path of devotion I am
so hindered and drawn in opposite directions that I
cannot go whither my heart urges me without breaking
this heart, which would like to do good with the left
hand as with the right. If I devote myself to one, I
abandon the other, and leave him to perish. I have

CONSUELO. 47

an adopted husband whose wife I cannot be without
killing my adopted father ; and reciprocally, if I fulfil
my duty as a daughter, I kill my husband. It is
written that a woman shall leave her father and mother
and cleave to her husband ; but I am, in reality,
neither wife nor daughter. The law has made no de-
cision for me, society has not been concerned about
my lot. My heart must choose. The passion of a
man does not govern him, and in the dilemma in
which I am, the passion of duty and devotion cannot
enlighten my choice. Albert and Porpora are equally
unhappy, equally threatened with the loss of reason or
life. I am as necessary to one as to the other. I must
sacrifice one of them."

"Why so? If you married the count, would
not Porpora hve with you? You would thus save
him from poverty, you would revive him by your
care and you would fulfil both of your duties at
once."

" If it could be so, I swear to you, Joseph, that I
would renounce art and liberty ; but you do not know
Porpora. It is glory of which he is greedy, not ease
and comfort ; he suffers without knowing for what.
Besides, always dreaming of triumphs and the admira-
tion of men, he would not stoop to accept their pity.
You may be sure that his distress is in great part the
result of his carelessness and pride. If he would
speak a word, he has still friends who would come to
his assistance ; but, besides that he has never noticed
whether his pocket was full or empty (you see that

48 CONSUELO.

he is equally ignorant in regard to his stomach), he
would rather die of hunger, shut up in his room, than
seek the alms of a dinner from his best friend. He
would think he was disgracing music if he allowed it
to be suspected that Porpora needed anything besides
his genius, his clavichord and his pen. Consequently,
the ambassador and his mistress, who love and ven-
erate him, do not in the least suspect his destitution.
When they see him dwelling in a sombre and dilapi-
dated room, they think it is because he loves darkness
and disorder. Has he not told them himself that he
could not compose amid other surroundings ? I know
better ; I have seen him climb upon the roofs in Venice
to gain inspiration from the sound of the sea and the
sight of the sky. If they receive him with his dirty
clothes, his shabby periwig and his shoes in holes, they
think they are obliging him. * He loves dirt,* they
say ; * it is a failing of old men and artists. His rags
are agreeable to him. He could not walk in new
shoes.* He asserts it himself; but in my childhood I
saw him clean, neat, always perfumed, shaven and co-
quettishly shaking the lace of his cuffs over the key-
board of the organ or the clavichord ; it was because
in those days he could be thus without owing anything
to any one. Never would Porpora consent to live idle
and unknown in the depths of Bohemia at the cost of
his friends. He would not remain there three months
without cursing and abusing everybody, believing that
they were plotting his ruin, and that his enemies had
had him imprisoned to prevent his publishing his

CONSURLO. 49

works and having them performed. He would go off
some fine morning, shaking off the dust from his feet,
and he would come back to his garret, his worm-
eaten clavichord, his fatal bottle and his dear manu-
scripts.'*

" Do you see no possibility of taking your Count
Albert to Vienna, or Venice, or Dresden, or Prague, —
to some musical city, in a word ? Being rich, you could
settle down anywhere, surround yourselves with musi-
cians, cultivate art in a certain fashion, and leave an
open field for Porpora's ambition, without ceasing to
watch over him."

" How can you ask such a question, after all that
I have told you about Albert's health and character?
How could he, who cannot bear the face of a stranger,
endure this crowd of knaves and fools which is called
society? And what irony, what aversion, what con-
tempt, would not the world bestow upon that holy
fanatic, who can understand neither its laws, morals
nor customs ! It would be as dangerous to attempt
that as what I am now trying, in endeavoring to make
him forget me."

"Be sure that every ill would appear lighter to
him than your absence. If he loves you truly, he
will bear everything, and if he does not love you
enough to endure and accept everything, he will forget
you."

"And therefore I am waiting, without deciding
anything. Give me courage^ Beppo, and stay near
me, that I may have at least one heart to which I can

so CONSUELO.

confide my sorrows, and which I can ask to seek
hope with me."

"Be easy, sister," said Joseph; "if I am happy
enough to give you this sHght consolation, I will brave
Porpora's outbursts patiently ; I will even allow him
to beat me, if that will take his mind from tormenting
and afflicting you."

While chatting with Joseph in this way, Consuelo
worked ceaselessly, sometimes to prepare their com-
mon repasts, sometimes to repair Porpora's raiment.
Little by little she introduced into the apartment
the furniture which her master needed. A good
arm-chair, roomy and well padded, replaced the
one of straw upon which he reposed his worn and
aged limbs ; and when he had enjoyed in it the
pleasure of a siesta, he was astonished, and asked
with a frown how he came to have this comfortable
seat.

" It was the mistress of the house who sent it up
here," replied Consuelo ; " it was an old thing which
was in her way, and I consented to place it in this
corner until she wanted it again."

Porpora's mattresses were changed, and he made
no comment upon the excellence of his bed except
to say that he had been able to sleep again within the
last few nights. Consuelo replied that he ought to
attribute this improvement to his coffee and to his
abstinence from brandy. One morning, Porpora, hav-
ing put on an excellent dressing-gown, asked Joseph
with a thoughtful air where he had found it. Joseph,

CONSUELO. 51

who had his cue, replied that he had found it at the
bottom of an old trunk which he was arranging.

** I did not think that I had brought it with me,"
replied Porpora ; " yet it is the same one I had in
Venice ; it is the same color, at least."

"What other could it be?" replied Consuelo, who
had been careful to match the color of the defunct
Venetian dressing-gown.

" Well, I thought it more worn than that," said the
maestro, looking at the elbows.

" I should think so ! I have put in new sleeves."

''With what?"

"With a piece of the lining."

" Ah, women are astonishing for putting everything
to use ! "

When the new coat was introduced, and Porpora
had worn it for two days, he was astonished to find it
so fresh, though it was the same color as the other.
The buttons, which were very handsome, especially
aroused his suspicions.

"This is not my coat," said he grumblingly.

" I told Beppo to take it to a cleaner," replied Con-
suelo ; " you stained it last night. They have pressed
it, and that is why it seems new to you.

" I tell you that it is not mine ! " cried the master
in a rage. " They changed it at the cleaner's. Your
Beppo is an imbecile."

" They did not change it ; I made a mark in it."

" And those buttons ! Do you think you can make
me swallow those buttons? "

52 CONSUELO.

" I changed the trimming and sewed it on myself.
The old was entirely ruined."

'' It amuses you to say that ! It was quite present-
able. What a folly ! Am I a Celadon, to bedizen
myself in this way, and buy a trimming which cost
twelve sequins at least? "

" It did not cost twelve florins. I bought it at a
bargain."

" Even that is too much," murmured the master.

All the pieces of his costume were given him in the
same fashion, by the aid of adroit fibs which made
Joseph and Consuelo laugh like two children. Some
articles passed unperceived, thanks to Porpora's pre-
occupation. The lace and the linen slipped discreetly
into his wardrobe, little by little, and when he ap-
peared to look at them attentively, Consuelo assumed
the honor of having carefully mended them. To
make it appear likely, she repaired some of his old
clothes beneath his eyes, and put them away with the
others.

" Here," cried Porpora one day, snatching from
her hands a cravat which she was mending, " enough
of this trifling ! An artist ought not to be a house-
keeper, and I do not wish to see you all day bent
double in this way, with a needle in your hand. Lock
up all this, or I will throw it in the fire ! And I do
not wish to see you at the fire, cooking, and breathing
the vapor of the charcoal. Do you wish to lose your
voice ? Do you wish to be a scullion ? Do you wish
to have me damned ? "

CONSUELO, 53

" Heaven forbid ! " replied Consuelo ; " but your
clothes are in good order now, and my voice has
come back."

" Good ! " said the master. " In that case, you
shall sing to-morrow for the Countess Hoditz, Dow-
ager Margravine of Baireuth."

54 CONSUELO.

CHAPTER V.

The Dowager Margravine of Baireuth, widow of
the Margrave George William, born Princess of Saxe-
Weisenfeld, and by her last marriage Countess Hoditz,
" had been as beautiful as an angel," it was said.
"But she was so changed that it was necessary to
study her face to discover the ruins of her charms.
She was tall, and seemed to have had a handsome
figure ; her face was very long, as was also her nose,
which disfigured her greatly, for it had been frozen,
which gave it a most unpleasant color, like a beet ;
her eyes, accustomed to laying down the law, were
large, well shaped and brown, but so sunken that their
vivacity was greatly diminished ; for lack of natural
eyebrows she wore false ones, very thick, and black as
ink ; her mouth, though large, was well shaped and
pleasing ; her teeth, white as ivory, were well planted ;
her complexion, though smooth, was yellowish, leaden
and flabby ; she had a good, but somewhat affected,
manner. She was the Lais of her age. She pleased
only by her face ; for as to wit, she had not a shade
of it."

If you think this portrait drawn by a rather cruel
and cynical hand, do not blame me, dear reader. It
is word for word the writing of a princess who was
famous for her misfortunes, her domestic virtues, her

CONSUELO, 55

pride and her spitefulness, — Princess Wilhelmina of
Prussia, the sister of Frederick the Great, married to
the hereditary prince of the margraviate of Baireuth,
the nephew of our Countess Hoditz. She had the
sharpest tongue that royal blood ever produced. But
her portraits are, as a general thing, drawn with a
masterly hand, and it is difficult, in reading them, not
to believe them exact.

When Consuelo, with her hair dressed by Keller,
and clad, thanks to his care and zeal, with an elegant
simplicity, was introduced into the margravine's draw-
ing-room by Porpora, she went behind the clavichord,
which had been placed diagonally in a corner, so as
not to be in the way. No one had yet arrived, so
punctual was Porpora, and the servants were still light-
ing the candles. The maestro sat down to try the
clavichord, and had hardly struck a few chords upon
it when a very beautiful lady entered and came towards
him with affable grace. As Porpora saluted her with
the greatest respect, and called her princess, Consuelo
took her for the margravine, and kissed her hand, ac-
cording to the usage. This cold and colorless hand
pressed that of the young girl with a cordiality which
is rarely met with among the great, and which imme-
diately won Consuelo's heart. The princess appeared
about thirty years of age. Her figure was elegant
without being correct ; one could even detect a cer-
tain crookedness which seemed the result of great
physical suffering. Her face was admirable, but fright-
fully pale, and the expression of a profound sorrow

56 CONSUELO,

had prematurely worn and faded it. Her toilet was
exquisite, but simple and modest even to severity.
An air of goodness, of sadness and of timid modesty
overspread this beautiful person, and the sound of her
voice had in it something humble and touching by
which Consuelo felt moved. Before our heroine had
time to understand that this was not the margravine,
that lady herself appeared. She was then more than
fifty years old ; and if the portrait which stands at the
head of this chapter, and which was made ten years
before, was somewhat exaggerated then, it certainly
was not at the time when Consuelo saw her. It even
required some good-will to perceive that Countess
Hoditz had been one of the beauties of Germany,
although she was painted and decked with the most
learned coquetry. The stoutness of age had overrun
outlines concerning which the margravine persisted in
deceiving herself strangely; for her bare neck and
shoulders challenged the gaze with a pride which
ancient sculpture alone may assume. Her hair was
dressed with flowers, diamonds and feathers, like that
of a young woman, and her dress was covered with
jewels.

" Mamma," said the princess, who had been the
cause of Consuelo's error, " this is the young person
of whom Maestro Porpora told us, and who will give
us the pleasure of listening to the music of his new
opera."

" That is no reason," said the margravine, looking
Consuelo from head to foot, " why you should hold

CONSUELO, 57

her hand in this way. Go and sit down by the clavi-
chord, young lady ; I am glad to see you, and you
will sing when the company is assembled. Master
Porpora, I salute you. I ask your pardon for leaving
you. I see that something is lacking in my toilet.
Daughter, talk a litde to Master Porpora. He is a
man of talent, whom I esteem."

Having said this in a voice rougher than that of a
soldier, the fat margravine turned heavily on her heel
and returned to her apartment.

She had hardly disappeared when the princess, her
daughter, went to Consuelo, and took her hand again
with delicate and touching considerateness, as if to
say that she protested against her mother's imperti-
nence, and then began a conversation with her and
Porpora, and displayed an interest in them full of grace
and simplicity. Consuelo was still more touched by this
kindness when, several other persons having come in,
she observed in the customary manner of the princess
a coldness and reserve, timid and at the same time
haughty, which she had evidently laid aside exception-
ally for the maestro and herself.

When the drawing-room was nearly full. Count Ho-
ditz, who had dined from home, came in in full dress,
and, as if he had been a stranger in his own house, went
respectfully to kiss the hand and inquire for the health
of his noble spouse. The margravine affected to be
in very delicate health. She was half reclining upon
her chair, incessantly inhaling from a bottle for the
vapors, and receiving the salutations with an air which

58 CONSUELO,

she thought languishing, but which was only disdainful ;
in short, she was so completely ridiculous that Con-
suelo, who had at first felt irritated and outraged by
her insolence, ended by being inwardly amused, and
promised herself a hearty laugh when she should draw
her portrait for Beppo.

The princess had drawn near the clavichord, and
was losing no opportunity to give Consuelo either a
word or a smile, when her mother was not observing
her. This situation enabled Consuelo to witness a
little domestic scene which gave her the key to the
relations of the household. Count Hoditz approached
his step-daughter, took her hand, raised it to his lips
and held it there for a few seconds with a very expres-
sive look. The princess withdrew her hand, and spoke
a few words to him with cold respect. The count did
not listen to them, but, continuing to look passion-
ately at her, said, —

" What, my lovely angel ! still sad, still austere, still
unapproachable? One would say that you wished to
become a nun."

'^ It is very possible that it may end in that," replied
the princess in an undertone. " The world has not
treated me in a manner to inspire me with great love
for its pleasures."

" The world would adore you and be at your feet if
you did not affect, by your severity, to hold it at a
distance ; and as for the cloister, could you bear the
horror of it at your age, and beautiful as you are? "

" At a happier age, and beautiful as I no longer am,

CONSUELO. 59

I bore the horror of a more rigorous captivity ; have
you forgotten it ? But do not speak to me any longer,
count ; mamma is looking at you."

Instantly the count, as if moved by a spring, left his
step-daughter, and went to Consuelo, whom he saluted
gravely ; then, having addressed some words to her in
regard to music in general, he opened the book which
Porpora had laid upon the clavichord, and, pretending
to seek in it something which he wished her to explain
to him, he leaned over the rack and spoke to her as
follows, in a low voice : —

" I saw the deserter yesterday morning, and his
wife gave me a note. I ask the lovely Consuelo to
forget a certain meeting, and in return for her silence,
I will forget a certain Joseph, whom I have just seen
in my ante- chamber."

"This certain Joseph," replied Consuelo, whom the
discovery of the conjugal jealousy and constraint had
rendered very easy concerning the results of the Pas-
sau adventure, "is an artist of talent who will not
remain long in ante-chambers. He is my brother, my
comrade and my friend. I have no reason to blush
for my feelings in regard to him, and I have nothing
to ask of your lordship's generosity, save a little indul-
gence for my voice, and a litde protection for Joseph^s
future debut in his musical career."

^' My interest is assured to the aforesaid Joseph, as
my admiration already is to your beautiful voice ; but
I flatter myself that a certain jest on my part was
never taken seriously."

6o CONSUELO.

" I was never so conceited, my lord count, and
besides, I know that a woman never has reason to
pride herself on being made the subject of a jest of
that sort."

"That is sufficient, signora," said the count, of
whom the dowager never lost sight, and who was in
haste to converse with some one else, that he might
not give offence ; " the celebrated Consuelo must know
how to pardon something for the sake of the merri-
ment of a journey, and she can count for the future
on the respect and devotion of Count Hoditz."

He replaced the book upon the clavichord, and
went to receive obsequiously a personage who had
just been pompously announced. It was a little man
whom one would have taken for a woman in disguise,
so rosy, curled, bedizened, delicate, pretty and per-
fumed was he ; it was he of whom Maria Theresa
said that she would like to set him in a ring ; it was
also he of whom she said that she had made him a
diplomat, being unable to make him anything better.
It was the plenipotentiary of Austria, the prime min-
ister, the favorite, they even said the lover, of the
empress ; it was no less than the celebrated Kaunitz,
that statesman who held in his white hand, ornamented
with rings of a thousand colors, all the delicate threads
of European diplomacy.

He appeared to be listening gravely to the grave
persons who approached him to speak on grave sub-
jects. But suddenly he broke off to ask Count
Hoditz, —

CONSUELO. 6 1

" Who is it that I see there by the clavichord ? Is
it the girl of whom they told me, Porpora's protege ?
That poor devil Porpora ! I should like to do some-
thing for him, but he is so exacting and eccentric that
all the artists fear or hate him. When one speaks of
him, it is as if one showed them the head of Medusa.
He tells one that he sings false, another that his music
is worth nothing, a third that he owes his success to
intrigue. And with this barbarous frankness he expects
them to listen to him and do him justice ! The devil !
We do not live in the woods. Frankness is no longer
the fashion, and men are not led by the truth. She
is not bad, the little girl ; I like her face well enough.
She is quite young, is she not ? They say that she
had a success in Venice. Porpora must bring her to
me to-morrow."

" He wishes," said the princess, " that you should
have the empress hear her, and I hope that you will not
refuse him this favor. I ask it on my own account."

" There is nothing so easy as to have the empress
hear her, and it is sufficient that your highness desires
it for me to hasten to arrange it. But there is some
one more powerful at the theatre than the empress.
It is Madame Tesi; and even though her majesty
were to take this girl under her protection, I doubt if
her engagement would be signed without Madame
Tesi's supreme approbation."

" They say that it is you, count, who spoil these
ladies so horribly, and that they would not have so
much power were it not for your indulgence."

62 CONSUELO.

" What would you have, princess ? Every one is
master in his own house. Her majesty understands
perfectly that if she were to interfere by an imperial
decree in the aifairs of the opera, the opera would be
in confusion. Now, her majesty wishes the opera to
run smoothly. What is to be done if the prima donna
has a cold on the day when she ought to make her
debut, or if the tenor, instead of throwing himself
into the bass's arms in a scene of reconciliation,
boxes his ears? We have enough trouble as it is
in satisfying Signor Caffariello's caprices. We are
happy now that Madame Tesi and Madame Holzbauer
live peaceably together. If an apple of discord is
thrown on our stage, affairs will be in a worse state
than ever."

" But a third woman is absolutely necessary," said
the Venetian ambassador, who was a warm supporter
of Porpora and his pupil ; " and here is an admirable
one who offers herself" —

" If she is admirable, so much the worse for her.
She will inspire jealousy in Madame Tesi, who is ad-
mirable and wishes to be alone in that. She will en-
rage Madame Holzbauer, who wishes to be admirable
also" —

"And who is not," returned the ambassador.

"She is very well born ; she is of excellent family,"
replied Count Kaunitz ironically.

" She cannot sing two roles at the same time. She
must allow the mezzo-soprano to sing her part in the
operas."

CONSUELO. 63

" We have a Gorilla who offers herself, and who is
certainly the most beautiful creature in the world." .

" Has your excellency already seen her? "

" I saw her the very day she arrived. But I have
not heard her. She was ill.'*

" You will hear this one, and you will not hesitate
to give her the preference."

"It is possible. I even confess that her face,
though less beautiful than Gorilla's, seems to me more
agreeable. Her expression is sweet and modest.
But my preference will be of no use to her, the poor
child ! She will have to please Madame Tesi, without
displeasing Madame Holzbauer; and thus far, in
spite of the tender affection which unites these ladies,
whoever has been approved by one has always had
the fate to be vigorously opposed by the other.'*

''This is a grave crisis, and a most serious affair,"
said the princess somewhat sarcastically, when she
saw the importance which the two statesmen lent to
these stage intrigues. *' Our poor little protege is in
the balance with Gorilla, and I will wager that it is
Signor Gaffariello who will cast his sword into one
of the scales."

When Gonsuelo had sung, there was only one
voice to declare that since Madame Hasse, nothing
like her had been heard; and Gount Kaunitz, ap-
proaching her, said with a solemn air, —

" Signora, you sing better than Madame Tesi ; but
this must be in confidence between us all, for if such
a judgment were to pass the door you would be lost,

64 CONSUELO.

and you would not appear in Vienna this year, at
any rate. Therefore, be prudent, very prudent," he
added, lowering his voice and sitting down beside her.
"You have to contend against great obstacles, and
you will win only by great adroitness."

Thereupon, entering upon the thousand ramifica-
tions of theatrical intrigue, and acquainting her
minutely with all the petty passions of the troupe,
the great Kaunitz made a complete treatise on diplo-
macy as practised behind the footlights.

Consuelo listened to him with her great eyes wide
open with astonishment, and when he had finished, as
he had said repeatedly in his talk with her, " My last
opera — the opera which I produced last month,"
she thought she had mistaken his name when she
heard it announced, and that this person who was so
skilled in the mysteries of stage life must be a direc-
tor of the opera, or a fashionable maestro. She
therefore became at her ease with him, and spoke
to him as she would have done to a member of her
profession. This unconstraint made her more simple
and more sprightly than respect for the all-powerful
minister would have allowed her to be, and Count
Kaunitz thought her charming. He hardly spoke
to any one but her for an hour. The margravine
was greatly scandalized by such a breach of the pro-
prieties. She hated the liberty of the great courts,
accustomed as she was to the solemn formalities of
the small ones. But she could not play the margra-
vine ; she was one no longer. She was tolerated and

CONSUELO. 65

well enough treated by the empress, because she had
abjured the Lutheran faith to become a Catholic.
By this act of hypocrisy, pardon could be gained
for all misalliances, even for all crimes, at the court
of Austria; and Maria Theresa followed in this re-
spect the example of her father and mother, by
receiving whoever wished to escape the rebuffs and
contempt of Protestant Germany by taking refuge in
the bosom of the Roman Church. But princess and
Catholic though she was, the margravine was nothing
in Vienna, and Count Kaunitz was everything.

As soon as Consuelo had sung her third air, Por-
pora, who knew the customs, made a sign to her,
took up his music, and went out with her by a
little side door without disturbing by her departure
the noble persons who had been graciously pleased to
open their ears to her divine accents.

"All is well," he said, rubbing his hands when they
were in the street. " Kaunitz is an old fool who
knows how to manage, and can help you greatly."

"And who is Kaunitz? I did not see him," said
Consuelo.

" You did not see him, blockhead ? He talked to
you more than an hour."

" You do not mean the little man in the silver and
rose waistcoat, who told me so much gossip that I
thought I was listening to an old box-opener? "

" It is he himself. What is there astonishing? "

" I think it very astonishing," said Consuelo, " and
he is not at all my idea of a statesman."

^6 CONSUELO,

" That is because you do not see how states are
controlled. If you did, you would think it surprising
that statesmen were not all old gossips. Come, no
more of that, and let us ply our trade amid this mas-
querade. '^

" Alas, master ! " said the young girl, who had be-
come thoughtful as she traversed the vast esplanade
of the rampart to go towards the suburb where their
modest dwelling was situated, " I was just wondering
what our calling is to become among these cold or
lying masks.''

*^ What do you expect it to become ? '' returned
Porpora, in his rough and dry tone ; " it cannot be-
come this or that. Fortunate or unfortunate, trium-
phant or disdained, it remains what it is, the most
beautiful, the noblest calling in the world. '*

*'0h, yes !" said Consuelo, retarding her master's
rapid pace, and taking his arm, " I understand that
the nobility and dignity of our art cannot be debased
or exalted at the will of the frivolous caprice or the
bad taste which governs the world ; but why do we
allow our persons to be degraded ? Why do we ex-
pose them to the disdain of the profane, or to their
encouragement, which is sometimes even more humil-
iating ? If art is sacred, are not we so likewise, —
we, its priests and levites ? Why do we not live in
our garrets, happy in understanding and feeling
music ? What have we to do in those drawing-rooms
where they whisper as they listen to us, where they
applaud us while they think of something else,

CONS UK LO. 67

and where they would blush to consider us as human
beings a moment after we had ceased parading as
players? "

" What ! what ! " growled Porpora, stopping and
striking his cane upon the pavement, " what foolish
vanity and false ideas have we in our head to-day?
Who are we, and what need have we of being any-
thing but players ? They call us thus from contempt !
What matters it if we are players by taste, by voca-
tion and by the election of heaven, as they are great
lords by chance, by necessity or by the election of
fools ? Bah ! players ? Not every one can be a
player. Let them try, and we will see how they come
out of it, these lackeys who think themselves so fine !
Let the Dowager Margravine of Baireuth put on the
tragic mantle, bind her ugly, fat leg in a buskin and
make three steps upon the stage; we should see a
pretty princess I And what do you suppose she did
in her little court of Erlangen, in the days when she
fancied she was reigning? She tried to pose as a
queen, and she wore herself out striving to play a
part beyond her powers. She was born to be a vivan-
diere, and by a strange mistake nature made a princess
of her. Consequently she deserved to be roundly
hissed when she played the role of princess prepos-
terously. And you, foolish child, God made you a
queen ; he placed upon your brow a diadem of beauty,
wisdom and strength. If you were set in the midst
of a free, intelligent and sensible people (I will sup-
pose that such a one could exist), you would be

6S CONSUELO.

queen at once, because you would have only to show
yourself and sing to prove that you are a queen by
divine right. But this is not the case. The world
wags otherwise. It is as it is ; what can you do
about it? Chance, caprice, error and folly govern it.
What can we change in it? The masters are de-
formed, filthy, foolish and ignorant for the most part.
Here we are ; we must kill ourselves or keep pace
with it. Therefore, not being monarchs, we are artists,
and we still reign. We sing the language of heaven,
which is withheld from vulgar mortals ; we array our-
selves as kings and great men, we go upon the stage,
we seat ourselves upon a mock throne, we perform a
farce, we are players ! Corpo di Dio ! The world
sees all this, and understands not a word of it. It
does not see that we are the true powers of the earth,
and that our reign is the only real one, while their
reign and power, activity and majesty, are a parody
at which the angels laugh above, and which the people
hate and curse below. And the greatest princes in
the world come to look at us, to take lessons in our
school, and admiring us as the models of true grand-
eur, strive to resemble us when they pose before their
subjects. Bah ! the world is upside-down ; they feel
it clearly enough, those who govern, and if they do
not distinctly comprehend it, if they do not acknowl-
edge it, it is easy to see, from the contempt which
they affect for our persons and our calling, that they
experience an instinctive jealousy of our real superior-
ity. Oh, when I am at the theatre, I see clearly !

CONSUELO. 69

The spirit of music unseals my eyes, and I behold
behind the footlights a real court, real heroes, honest
inspiration ; while the true players, the vile strollers,
are those who display themselves on velvet chairs in
the boxes. The world is a comedy, that much is
certain ; and that is why I said to you just now, — Let
us, my noble daughter, pass gravely through this
wretched masquerade which is called the world."

*' A pest on the imbecile ! " cried the master, push-
ing away Joseph, who, eager to hear his words, had
insensibly approached so close as to jostle him ; " he
is walking on my feet, and covering me with resin
from his torch ! Would you not think that he under-
stands what we are talking about, and wishes to honor
us with his approbation? "

" Come on my left, Beppo,'* said the young girl,
making him a sign. " You annoy the master by your
awkwardness." Then addressing Porpora, she said, —

*' All that you say is, indeed, a noble madness, my
friend, but it does not answer my thought, and the
intoxication of pride does not mitigate the most
trifling wound of the heart. It is little odds to me
that I am a queen without a kingdom. The more I
see of the great, the more their lot fills me with com-
passion" —

" Well, is not that what I said to you? "

" Yes, but it is not what I asked you. They love
display and domination. There is their folly and
their misfortune. But why, if we are greater and bet-
ter and wiser than they, do we try to rival them,

7o CONSUELO.

pride against pride, royalty against royalty? If we
possess more solid advantages, if we enjoy more desir-
able and more precious treasures, what is the use of
the petty strife which we wage with them, and which,
by placing our value and our strength at the mercy of
their caprices, lowers us to their level? "

" The dignity, the holiness of art demand it," cried
the piaster. " They have made a battle-ground of
the world, and a martyrdom of our lives. We must
fight, we must shed our blood at every pore, to prove
to them, though we die in the effort, though we suc-
cumb beneath their hisses and their contempt, that
we are gods, or legitimate kings at the least, and that
they are vile mortals, brazen and cowardly usurpers."

" Oh, my master, how you hate them ! " said Con-
suelo, shuddering with surprise and fright ; " and yet
you bend before them, you flatter them, you make use
of them, and you go out of the back door of the
drawing-room, after having respectfully served them
with two or three dishes of your genius ! "

"Yes, yes," replied the master, rubbing his hands
with a bitter laugh, " I mock at them, I salute their
diamonds and their cordons, I crush them with three
chords of my own making, and I turn my back upon
them, glad to go away in haste, to be rid of their
stupid faces 1 "

" So," said Consuelo, " the apostleship of art is a
combat?"

" Yes, it is a combat ; honor to the brave ! "

" It is a mockery of fools? "

CONSUELO. 71

" Yes, it is a mockery ; honor to the man of wit
who can make it savage I "

" It is a concentrated anger, a never-ceasing
rage? "

" Yes, it is an anger and a rage ; honor to the
strong man who never wearies and never pardons ! "

'^ And it is nothing more ? "

" It is nothing more in this life. The glory of a
crown seldom comes to true genius save after death.'*

" It is nothing more in this life ? Master, are you
quite sure? '*

"I have told you so."

"In that case, it is very little," said Consuelo,
sighing and raising her eyes to the brilliant stars in
the pure, profound heavens."

" It is very little ? You dare to say, cowardly
heart, that it is very little?" cried Porpora, stopping
again, and roughly shaking his pupil's arm, while
Joseph, appalled, let fall his torch.

" Yes, I say that it is very little,'* replied Consuelo
calmly and firmly. " I told you so at Venice in a cir-
cumstance of my life which was cruel and decisive.
I have not changed my opinion. My heart is not
made for fighting, and it could never bear the burden
of hatred and anger; there is not a corner in my
soul where rancor and revenge could find a lodging.
Pass, evil passions, burning fevers, pass far from me !
If I can possess glory and genius only on condition
of yielding up my breast to you, then farewell glory
and genius forever 1 Go crown other brows and fire

72 CONSUELO.

Other breasts ; you will not have even a regret from
mer^

Joseph expected to see Porpora break out in one of
those terrible yet comic rages which prolonged con-
tradiction aroused in him. He already had hold of
Consuelo's arm to pull her away from the master, and
save her from one of those furious gestures with
which he often threatened her, but which never
brought forth anything save a smile or a tear. It was
with this outburst as with all the others ; Porpora
stamped his foot, gave a low growl, like an old lion in
his cage, and clenched his fist, shaking it vehemently
towards heaven ; then suddenly he dropped his arm,
heaved a deep sigh, hung his head upon his breast
and maintained an obstinate silence until he reached
the house. Consuelo's generous serenity, her vigor-
ous honesty, had filled him with involuntary respect.
Perhaps they caused bitter self-reflection ; but he did
not confess it, and he was too old, too sour and too
hardened in his artistic pride to change. Only, as
Consuelo gave him her good-night kiss, he looked at
her with a profoundly sad expression, and said to her
in a smothered voice, —

" So it is all over ! You are no longer an artist
because the Margravine of Baireuth is an old jade,
and Count Kaunitz an old gossip ! '^

" No, master, I did not say that," said Consuelo
laughing. " I shall be able to accept the imperti-
nences and absurdities of society gayly enough; I
shall need neither hatred nor contempt for that, only

CONSUELO. 73

my good conscience and my good-humor. I am still
an artist, and I alway shall be one. I believe in
another aim, another end for art than a rivalry of
pride and a vengeance of degradation. I have an-
other motive, and it will sustain me."

"What, what?" cried Porpora, laying upon the
table of the ante-chamber his candle, which Joseph
had just given him. '^ I wish to know what it is."

" My motive is to make art understood and loved
without making the person of the artist feared or
hated."

" Youthful dreams ! " said Porpora, shrugging his
shoulders. " I had them myself."

" Well, if it is a dream," replied Consuelo, " the
triumph of pride is a dream also. As between the
two, I prefer my own. Besides, I have another
motive, master — the desire to obey and please you."

" I do not believe a word of it, not a word ! " cried
Porpora, taking up his candle crossly and turning his
back ; but when his hand was on the lock of his door,
he came back and kissed Consuelo, who was waiting
smilingly for this return of tenderness.

In the kitchen, which was next to Consuelo's room,
there was a staircase which led to a sort of terrace six
feet square at the back of the roof. It was there that
she dried Porpora's cravats and cuffs when she had
washed them. Here also she would sometimes go to
chat with Beppo when the master went to sleep too
early for her to wish to retire herself. Not being able to
do anything in her own room, which was too narrow

74 CONSUELO.

and low to contain a table, and fearing to awaken her
old friend if she sat in the ante-chamber, she would
go up on the terrace, sometimes to dream alone as she
looked at the stars, sometimes to relate to her com-
rade in service and devotion the little incidents of the
day. That evening they had a thousand things to say
to each other. Consuelo wrapped herself up in a
cloak, pulling the hood over her head so as not to take
cold, and went to join Beppo, who was waiting for her
impatiently. These midnight conversations reminded
her of the interviews of her childhood with Anzoleto.
She had not the moon of Venice, the picturesque roofs
of Venice, the nights burning with love and hope ; but
she had the German night, colder and more dreamy,
and the German moon, more misty and more severe.
In short, it was friendship, with its charms and its
blessings, without the thrills and dangers of passion.

When Consuelo had told all that had interested,
wounded or amused her at the margravine's, then it
came Joseph's turn to speak ; he said, —

"You saw only the envelopes and the blazoned
seals of these court secrets ; but as lackeys are ac-
customed to read their master's letters, it was in the
ante-chamber that I learned the contents of the lives
of these great people. I will not tell you half the
stories of which the dowager margravine is the sub-
ject. You would shudder with horror and disgust.
Ah, if the people of the world knew how their ser-
vants speak of them ! If, from these fine parlors
where they display themselves with such dignity, they

CONSUELO. 75

could hear what is said of their morals and their
characters on the other side of the partition ! When
Porpora was explaining to us just now on the rampart
his theory of war and hatred against the rulers of the
earth, he was not truly dignified. Bitterness led his
judgment astray. Ah, you were right in telling him
that he lowered himself to the level of the nobles by
pretending to crush them beneath his contempt ! He
had not heard the conversation of the lackeys in the
ante-chamber ; if he had, he would have understood
that personal pride and contempt for others, concealed
beneath the appearance of respect and the forms of
submission, are characteristic of base and perverse
souls. Porpora was very fine, very original, very
powerful just now, when he struck the pavement with
his cane and said, * Courage, hatred, bitter irony,
eternal revenge ! * But your wisdom was finer than
his rage, and I was the more struck by it because I
had just seen lackeys, oppressed dastards, depraved
slaves, who likewise said with sullen and deep rage,
^ Revenge, craft, perfidy, eternal injury and eternal
hatred for the masters who think themselves our
superiors, and whose baseness we betray ! * I had never
been a lackey, Consuelo ; but since I am one, after the
fashion in which you were a boy during our journey,
I have made reflections on the duties of my present
condition, as you see."

" You have done wisely, Beppo. Life is a great
riddle, and we must not allow the smallest fact to
pass without commenting on it and understanding it.
We will have guessed just so much more of it.'*

76 CONSUELO.

CHAPTER VI.

A FFAV days later, Porpora having bestirred himself
and intrigued greatly after his fashion, — that is, by
threatening, grumbling or scoffing at everybody, —
Consuelo was conducted to the imperial chapel by
Master Reutter (young Haydn's former master and
enemy), where she sang before Maria Theresa the part
of Judith in the oratorio " Betulia Liberata," the
poem being by Metastasio and the music by this
same Reutter. Consuelo was magnificent, and Maria
Theresa deigned to be satisfied with her. When the
sacred concert was ended, Consuelo was invited with
the other singers (Caffariello was of the number) into
one of the halls of the palace, to partake of a collation
presided over by Reutter. She was hardly seated
between this master and Porpora, when a sound, at
once rapid and dignified, coming from a neighboring
gallery, thrilled all the guests but Caffariello and Con-
suelo, who were engaged in an animated discussion
concerning the time of a chorus, which one of them
would have liked faster, the other slower. "There is
no one but the master himself who can settle the
matter," said Consuelo, turning towards Reutter. But
she found neither Reutter on her right nor Porpora
on her left. Every one had risen from the table, and
was ranged in line, with an expression of profound

CONSUELO, 77

reverence. Consuelo found herself face to face with
a woman some thirty years of age, handsome from the
freshness and vigor of her countenance, clad in black"
(the chapel costume) and accompanied by seven
children, one of whom she held by the hand. That
one was the heir to the throne, the young Kaiser,
Joseph II., and the handsome woman with the easy
manner and the affable but imposing expression was
Maria Theresa.

"Ecco la Giuditta?" asked the empress of Reut-
ter. " I am greatly pleased with you, my child," she
added, scanning Consuelo from head to foot ; " you
gave me real pleasure, and I have never appreciated
more completely the sublimity of the lines of our
admirable poet than in your melodious mouth. You
pronounce perfectly, and it is to that I attach more
importance than to anything else. How old are you,
signora? You are a Venetian? A pupil of the cele-
brated Porpora, whom I am glad to see here? You
wish to enter the court theatre ? You are fitted to
shine there, and Count Kaunitz protects you."

Having thus questioned Consuelo, without waiting
for her replies, and looking by turns at Metastasio and
Kaunitz, who accompanied her, Maria Theresa made a
sign to one of her chamberlains, who presented a suf-
ficiently rich bracelet to Consuelo. Before the latter
thought of thanking the empress, she had already
passed through the room and withdrawn from the
singer's sight the splendor of the imperial brow. She
went away with her covey of princes and archduch-

78 CONSUELO.

esses, addressing a complimentary and gracious word
to each of the musicians as she passed them, and leav-
ing behind her a sort of luminous trail in all these eyes,
dazzled by her glory and power.

Caffariello was the only one who preserved, or pre-
tended to preserve, his self-possession. He resumed
his discussion precisely where he had left it off; and
Consuelo, putting her bracelet in her pocket without
thinking of looking at it, began to dispute with him, to
the great astonishment and scandal of the other musi-
cians, who, overcome by the fascination of the imperial
apparition, could not imagine how any one could
think of anythiag else for the rest of the day. It
is unnecessary to say that Porpora alone was in his
heart an exception, both instinctively and deliberately,
to this enthusiastic prostration. He knew how to bend
fittingly before sovereigns ; but in his heart he despised
and derided their slaves. Reutter, when questioned
by Caffariello about the proper movement of the cho-
rus under discussion, compressed his lips with a
hypocritical air; and after allowing himself to be
interrogated several times, replied at last with a very
cold manner, —

" I confess, sir, that I was not listening to your
conversation. When Maria Theresa is before my eyes
I forget the whole world, and long after she has disap-
peared, I remain under the influence of an emotion
which does not allow me to think of myself."

" Signora Porporina does not seem overwhelmed by
the signal honor which she has just procured us," said

CONSUELO. 79

Holzbauer, who was there, and whose servility was
somewhat more restrained than that of Reutter. " It •
seems a simple matter for you, signora, to converse
with crowned heads.'*

" I have never conversed with any crowned heads,'*
tranquilly replied Consuelo, who did not understand
the maliciousness of Holzbauer's insinuations ; ^' and
her majesty did not accord me that favor, for she
seemed, from the manner in which she questioned me,
to forbid me the honor or spare me the trouble of
replying to her."

" Perhaps you desired to have a conversation with
the empress?" said Porpora in a sarcastic tone.

" I never desired it," said Consuelo naively.

"The young lady is apparently more indifferent
than ambitious," said Reutter in an icy tone.

" Master Reutter," said Consuelo, confidently and
frankly, " are you dissatisfied with the way in which I
sang your music? "

Reutter acknowledged that no one had ever sung it
better, even in the reign of the " august and ever- to-
be- regretted " Charles VI.

" In that case," said Consuelo, " do not reproach
me with my indifference. I have the ambition to
satisfy my masters, and to do my work well. What
other could I have ? What other would not be ridicu-
lous and out of place on my part? "

"You are too modest, signora," replied Holzbauer.
" There is no ambition too vast for such a talent as
yours."

8o CONSUELO.

" I accept that as a compliment full of gallantry,"
said Consuelo ; " but I shall not believe that I have
satisfied you at all until you ask me to sing at the
court theatre."

Holzbauer, caught in the trap in spite of his pru-
dence, was seized with a fit of coughing to save him-
self from replying, and extricated himself with a
courteous and respectful bow. Then, leading back
the conversation to its first subject, he said, —

" You really possess unexampled calmness and dis-
interestedness. You have not even looked at the
handsome bracelet with which her majesty presented
you."

"Ah, true!" said Consuelo, taking it from her
pocket and passing it to her neighbors, who were cu-
rious to see it and estimate its value. " It will serve
to buy wood for my master's stove if I have no en-
gagement this winter," she thought ; " a very small
pension would be far more useful to us than ornaments
and trinkets."

" What a heavenly beauty is her majesty ! " said
Reutter with a sanctified sigh, as he cast a hard, side-
long glance at Consuelo.

"Yes, she seemed to me very beautiful," replied
the young girl, who could not understand Porpora's
nudges.

"She seemed io you?" said Reutter. "You are
hard to please."

"1 had hardly time to get a glance at her, she
passed so quickly."

CONSUELO, Si

"But her dazzling intellect, that genius which is
revealed in every syllable which comes from her lips ! '.'

" I had hardly time to hear her, she said so
little.''

"Really, signora, you are made of bronze or of
diamond. I do not know what would be sufficient to
move you."

" I was greatly moved when I sang your Judith,"
replied Consuelo, who could be sarcastic on occasion,
and who was beginning to understand the ill-will of
the Viennese masters towards her.

" This girl has wit beneath her simple air," said
Holzbauer in an undertone to Reutter.

" It is Porpora's school," replied the other ; " con-
tempt and sarcasm."

" If we do not take care, the old recitative and the
osseniato style wall overwhelm us more completely
even than in the past," said Holzbauer ; " but be
easy, I have the means to prevent this spawn of Por-
pora from raising her voice."

When they rose from table, Caffariello said in Con-
suelo's ear, —

" You see, my child, these people are all utter
canaille. You will have trouble in accomplishing
anything here. They are all against you. They
would all be against me if they dared."

"What have we done to them?" asked Consuelo
in astonishment.

"We are pupils of the greatest singing- teacher in
the world. They and their creatures are our natural

83 CONSUELO,

enemies. They will prejudice Maria Theresa against
you, and everything that you have said here will be
repeated to her with malicious comments. They will
say that you did not consider her handsome, and that
you thought her present mean. I know all their un-
derhand devices. But take courage, I will protect
you against every one, and I think that the opinion of
Caffariello in musical matters is well worth that of
Maria Theresa."

" Between the spitefulness of some and the folly of
others, I am finely compromised ! " thought Consuelo,
as she went away. " O Porpora ! " she said in her
heart, " I will do my best to return to the stage. O
Albert ! I hope that I shall not succeed."

The next day Porpora, having business in the city
which would occupy him for the whole day, and see-
ing Consuelo somewhat pale, advised her to make an
excursion outside of the city to the " Spinnerin am
Kreutz " with Keller's wife, who had offered to ac-
company her whenever she wished. As soon as
the master had gone out, the young girl said to
Haydn, —

" Beppo, run quickly and hire a little carriage, and
we will go to see Angele and thank the canon. We
promised to do it earlier, but my cold will serve for
an excuse."

" And in what costume will you present yourself to
the canon? " said Beppo.

" In this," she replied. " The canon must know
and accept me in my true shape."

CONSUELO. 83

" Excellent canon ! I shall be delighted to see
Wm ! ''

"And I also."

" Poor, good canon ! I grieve to think " —

"What?"

"That his head will be altogether turned."

"Why so? Am I a goddess? I did not know it."

"Consuelo, remember that he was three-fourths
mad when we left him."

" And I tell you that it will be enough for him to
know that I am a woman, and to see me as I am,
for him to recover control of his will and become
once more what God made him, a reasonable being."

" It is true that dress has some effect. Thus, when
I saw you here transformed into a young lady, after be-
ing accustomed for a fortnight to treating you as a boy,
I felt a strange fright, a curious constraint, for which
I could not account ; and it is certain that if I had
allowed myself to fall in love with you during the
journey — but you will say that I am talking non-
sense."

" Certainly, Joseph, you are talking nonsense ; and
what is more, you are wasting time in chattering.
We have ten leagues to make in going to the priory
and returning. It is eight o'clock in the morning,
and we must be back at seven this evening for the
master's supper."

Three hours later Beppo and his companion alighted
at the gate of the priory. It was a fine day ; the
canon was gazing at his flowers with a melancholy air.

84 CONSUELO.

When he saw Joseph, he uttered a cry of joy and
sprang to meet him ; but he stopped stupefied when
he recognized his dear Bertoni in the dress of a
woman.

"Bertoni, my beloved child," he cried, with holy
simplicity, " what means this masquerade, and why
have you come disguised in this way? This is not
the carnival ' ' —

"My venerated friend," said Consuelo, kissing his
hand, "your reverence must pardon me for having
deceived you. I have never been a boy; Bertoni
never existed, and when I had the happiness of
knowing you, I was really disguised."

"We thought," said Joseph, who feared to see the
canon's amazement turn to anger, " that your rev-
erence never was a dupe to our innocent imposition.
This disguise was not designed to deceive you ; it
was a necessity imposed by circumstances, and we
always supposed that you had the generosity and the
delicacy to lend yourself to it."

"You thought so?" said the canon, amazed and
frightened ; " and you, Bertoni, — I mean young lady,
— you thought so also?"

" No, canon," repUed Consuelo, " I never thought
so for a moment. I saw perfectly that your rev-
erence had no suspicion of the truth."

"And you do me justice," said the canon, in a
somewhat severe but profoundly sad tone. " I can-
not compound with the truth, and if I had suspected
your sex, I should not have continued, as I did, to

CONSUELO. 85

urge you to remain with me. There has indeed
been, in the neighboring village, and even among my
own people, a vague rumor, a suspicion which caused
me to smile, so obstinately mistaken was I concern-
ing you. It was said that one of the two little
musicians who sang mass on the feast of the patron
saint was a woman in disguise. And then they said
that this story was a spiteful invention of the shoe-
maker Gottlieb to frighten and pain the curate. In
fact, I myself contradicted the rumor authoritatively.
You see that I was completely your dupe, and one
could not have been more so."

"There has been a great misunderstanding," said
Consuelo, with the assurance of dignity, " but no one
has been a dupe, canon. I do not think that I de-
parted for a moment from the respect which was due
you, or from the proprieties imposed by honesty. I
was on the highway at night, with no resting-place,
worn out with fatigue and hunger after a long journey
on foot. You would not have refused hospitaHty to
a beggar. You granted it to me in the name of
music, and I paid you in music. If I did not go
away in spite of you the next morning, it was because
of unforeseen circumstances which dictated to me a
duty above all others. My enemy, my rival, my
persecutor, fell from the skies at your door, and, de-
prived of care and aid, had a right to my aid and
care. Your reverence will recollect the rest ; you
know that if I profited by your kindness, it was not
on my own account. You know also that I went

86 CONSUELO.

away as soon as my duty was accomplished ; and if I
have come back to-day to thank you for the goodness
with which you loaded me, it is because honesty made
it my duty to undeceive you myself, and to give you the
exj^lanations necessary for the dignity of both of us.'*

"There is in all this," said the canon, half won
over, "something mysterious and very extraordinary.
You say that the unhappy creature whose child I
adopted is your enemy, your rival. Who are you
yourself, Bertoni? Pardon me if that name always
comes to my lips, and tell me what I must call you in
future."

" I am called Porporina. I am a pupil of Porpora,
and a singer. I belong to the theatre."

"Ah, very good !" said the canon, with a deep sigh.
"I ought to have guessed it from the manner in which
you played your part ; and as for your prodigious tal-
ent in music, I can no longer be astonished at it. May
I ask if Signor Beppo is your brother — or your
husband? "

" Neither. He is my brother in heart, — nothing
but my brother, canon ; and if my soul had not felt
itself as chaste as your own, I should not have sullied
with my presence the sacredness of your dwelling."

Consuelo had, in telling the truth, an irresistible ac-
cent, to the power of which the canon submitted, as
pure and upright souls always submit to that of sin-
cerity. He felt as if relieved from an enormous
weight ; and as he walked slowly between his two
young proteges, he questioned Consuelo with a gentle-

CONSUELO. S7

ness and a return of sympathetic affection which he
forgot little by little to combat in himself. She told
him rapidly and without naming any one the princi-'
pal circumstances of her life, — her betrothal to Anzo-
leto at her mother's deathbed, his infidehty. Gorilla's
hatred, the outrageous designs of Zustiniani, Porpora's
advice, the departure from Venice, the attachment
which Albert had formed for her, the offers of the
Rudolstadt family, her own hesitations and scruples,
her flight from the Castle of the Giants, her meeting with
Joseph Haydn, her journey, her fright and compassion
at Gorilla's confinement, her gratitude for the pro-
tection extended by the canon to Anzoleto's child ;
finally, her return to Vienna, and even the interview
which she had had the day before with Maria Theresa.
Joseph had never known until then the whole of Gon-
suelo's story ; she had never spoken to him of Anzoleto,
and the few words which she had just said of her past
affection for this wretch did not strike him very forcibly ;
but her generosity towards Gorilla, and her anxiety for
the child, caused him so deep an impression that he
turned away to conceal his tears. The canon did not
restrain his own. Gonsuelo's narrative, concise, ener-
getic and sincere, produced the same effect upon him
as if he had read a beautiful romance ; indeed, he
never had read a romance, and this was the first ex-
perience that introduced him to the vivid emotions of
the lives of others. He had sat down upon a bench
to hear the better, and when the young girl had fin-
ished, he cried, —

8S CONSUELO,

" If all this is true, as I believe, as it seems to me
that I feel in my heart, by the will of heaven, you are
a holy maiden. You are St. Cecilia returned to earth !
I confess frankly that I have never had any prejudice
against the stage," he aided, after a moment's silence
and reflection, " and you prove to me that owq can earn
one's salvation there as well as elsewhere. Certainly,
if you continue as pure and generous as you have thus
far been, you will have deserved heaven, my dear
Bertoni. I tell you what I think, my dear Porpo-
rina."

"Now, canon," said Consuelo rising, "tell me
about Angele before I take leave of your reverence."

" Angele is well, and is growing finely," repUed the
canon. " The gardener's wife takes the greatest care
of her, and I see her continually being carried about
in my garden. She will grow up beneath my eyes,
among my flowers, like one flower more, and when the
time has come to make a Christian soul of her, I will
not fail to cultivate her. You may trust me for that,
my children. What I have promised in the face of
heaven, I will keep religiously. It seems that her
mother will not dispute this care with me, for although
she is in Vienna, she has not once sent to ask news of
her child."

" She may have done it indirectly, and without your
knowing it," replied Consuelo ; " I cannot believe
that a mother could be so indifferent as that. But
Corilla is intriguing for an engagement at the court
theatre. She knows that her majesty is very strict.

CONSUELO. 89

and does not accord her protection to persons of
blemished reputations. It is to her interest to conceal
her faults, at least until her engagement is signed. Let
us keep her secret for her."

"And yet she is your rival ! " cried Joseph ; " and
they say that she will win through her intrigues, that
she is already slandering you, that she has represented
you as Count Zustiniani's mistress. They spoke of it
at the embassy, Keller told me so. They were indig-
nant at it ; but they were afraid she would persuade
Count Kaunitz, who listens readily to stories of
this sort, and who cannot say enough for Corilla's
beauty " —

"She said that?" said Consuelo, blushing with in-
dignation ; then she added calmly, " It must needs
have been so ; I should have expected it."

" But only a word is necessary to expose her calum-
nies," returned Joseph, " and I will say it. I will say
that" —

" You will say nothing, Beppo ; it would be a cow-
ardice and a barbarity. You will say nothing, either,
canon ; and if I wished to speak, you would prevent
me, would you not? "

" Angelic soul ! " cried the canon. " But consider
that this secret cannot be one very long. It needs
but a word from the servants and peasants who wit-
nessed and may report the facts, for it to be known
within a fortnight that the chaste Corilla was deliv-
ered here of a fatherless child, which she abandoned
into the bargain."

90 CONSUELO.

" Within a fortnight Gorilla or I will be engaged.
I should not like to gain the victory over her by an
act of vengeance. Until then, Beppo, be silent, or I
will withdraw my esteem and friendship from you.
And now, farewell, canon. Tell me that you pardon
me, give me once more your fatherly hand, and I
will withdraw before your servants see me in this
dress.' ^

*' My servants may say what they like, and my
benefice may go to the devil, if heaven so wills. I
have just received an inheritance which gives me
courage to brave all the thunders of the ordinary.
Therefore, my children, do not take me for a saint ;
I am tired of obedience and constraint ; I wish to live
honestly and without silly fears. Since I no longer
have the spectre of Bridget at my side, and especially
since I find myself possessed of an independent
fortune, I feel brave as a lion. And now come and
breakfast with me ; we will baptize Ang^le afterwards,
and then we will have music until dinner time. An-
dr^, Joseph ! " he cried to his servants, as he led
the young people into the priory, "come and see
Signor Bertoni metamorphosed into a lady. You
would never have expected that? Nor I, either.
Well, never mind your surprise; make haste and
serve breakfast."

The repast was delicious, and the young folks saw
that if a great change had taken place in the canon's
mind, it was not an abandonment of the habit of good
living which had caused it. Afterwards the child was

CONSUELO, 91

taken to the priory chapel. The canon put on his
cassock and surpUce and performed the ceremony.
Consuelo and Joseph filled the offices of godmother
and godfather, and the name of Angele was bestowed
upon the little girl. The rest of the afternoon was de-
voted to music, and then came the farewells. The
canon grieved that he could not keep his friends to
dinner ; but he yielded to their reasons, and consoled
himself with the idea of seeing them in Vienna,
whither he was soon to go, to spend part of the win-
ter. While the carriage was getting ready, he took
them into the hothouse, to show them several new
plants with which he had enriched his collection.
The darkness was coming on, but the canon, whose
sense of smell was very acute, had made but a few
steps beneath the roof of his transparent palace,
when he cried, —

" I perceive an extraordinary perfume here ! Can
it be that my gladiolus has flowered ? No ; that is
not the odor of my gladiolus. The strelitzia has no
perfume, and the aroma of the cyclamens is less pure
and penetrating. What has happened here ? If my
volkameria were not dead, alas ! I should think that
it was its odor which I am breathing. Poor plant !
I must not think of it again ! "

But suddenly the canon uttered a cry of surprise
and admiration, as he saw rising before him in a box
the most magnificent volkameria that he had ever
seen in his life, all covered with its bunches of little
white roses lined with pink, the sweet perfume of

92 CONSUELO.

which filled the greenhouse, and overcame all com-
mon odors about it.

" Is it a miracle ? Whence comes this foretaste of
paradise, this flower from the garden of Beatrice?'*
he cried in a poetic rapture.

"We brought it in our carriage with all possible
care,*' replied Consuelo ; " allow us to offer it to you
in reparation for a frightful imprecation which fell
from my mouth one day, and which I shall always
repent.'*

" Oh, my dear child ! what a gift, and with what
delicacy it is bestowed ! " said the canon, deeply
touched. '^ Oh, beloved volkameria ! you shall have
an especial name, such as I am wont to give to the
most splendid specimens in my collection. You shall
be called Bertoni, to consecrate the memory of a
being who exists no longer, and whom I loved with
a father's heart."

" Good father," said Consuelo, pressing his hand,
" you must become accustomed to loving your daugh-
ters as much as your sons. Angele is not a boy " —

"And Porporina is my daughter also," said the
canon. " Yes, my daughter — yes, yes, my daughter ! "
he repeated, looking alternately at Consuelo and the
volkameria-Bertoni with tearful eyes.

At six o'clock, Joseph and Consuelo had returned
to the house. The carriage had. set them down at
the entrance to the suburb, and nothing betrayed their
innocent escapade. Only, Porpora was astonished
that Consuelo had not a better appetite after a walk in

CONSUELO. 93

the beautiful country about the capital. The canon's
breakfast had perhaps made Consuelo somewhat
dainty that day. But the open air and the drive
gave her an excellent sleep, and the next day she felt
in better voice and more courageous than she had
been since she arrived at Vienna.

94 CONSUELO,

CHAPTER VII.

In her uncertainty regarding her future, Consuelo,
beUeving that she was perhaps finding an excuse or
an explanation of the indecision of her heart, at last
decided to write to Count Christian of Rudolstadt, to
inform him of her position towards Porpora, of his
efforts to cause her to return to the stage, and of the
hope which she still cherished of seeing him fail.
She spoke to him frankly, explaining to him all the
gratitude, devotion and submission that she owed to
her old master, and, confiding to him the fears which
she felt in regard to Albert, begged him earnestly to
dictate to her the letter which she ought to send to
the latter to maintain him in a condition of calmness
and confidence. She ended by saying : " I have
asked your lordships for time to question myself and
decide. I am resolved to keep my word, and I can
swear before God that I feel the strength to close my
heart and mind to all opposing fancies, as to every
new love. And yet, if I return to the stage, I take a
step which is apparently an infraction of my promises,
a formal renunciation of the hope of keeping them.
Your lordship must judge me, or rather judge of the
fate which directs and the duty which governs me.
I see no means of avoiding them without crime.
I expect from you advice superior to my own

COISfSUELO, 95

reason; but can it be contrary to that of my con-
science? "

When this letter was sealed and intrusted to Joseph
to send off, Consuelo felt more tranquil, as always
happens in a painful situation when one has found
means to gain time and to put off the fatal moment.
She therefore prepared to pay with Porpora what he
considered an important and decisive visit to the very
famous and much-praised imperial poet, the Abbe
Metastasio.

This illustrious person was then about fifty years of
age. His face was handsome, his manner gracious,
his conversation charming, and Consuelo would have
felt a lively sympathy for him if she had not had the
following conversation with Porpora as she went
towards the house which was inhabited, on different
stories, by the imperial poet and the barber Keller.

"Consuelo (it was Porpora who spoke), you will
see a man of good appearance, with a black and flash-
ing eye, a brilliant complexion and a fresh and smiling
mouth, but who positively insists that he is the victim
of a slow, painful and dangerous disease, — a man who
eats, sleeps, works and grows stout like any one else,
but who pretends that he is a prey to insomnia, want
of appetite, exhaustion and consumption. Do not
have the stupidity, when he complains to you of all
his ills, to say that they do not appear, that he looks
extremely well, or to utter any other platitude of the
sort ; for he wishes to be pitied, to cause anxiety and
to be mourned before his time. Neither must you

96 CONSUELO.

have the imprudence to speak to him of death or any
dead person ; he is afraid of death and does not wish
to die. But still, do not be so clumsy as to say, when
you take leave of him, ' I hope that your precious
health will soon be better ! ' for he wishes people to
think him dying ; and if he could persuade others that
he is dead, he would be greatly pleased, so long as he
did not believe so himself."

"That is a very silly mania for a great man," re-
plied Consuelo. " What must I say to him, since I
cannot speak of getting well or dying? "

"You must speak of his illness, ask him a thousand
questions, listen to all the details of his suffering and
his discomfort, and in conclusion tell him that he
does not take enough care of himself, that he forgets
himself, that he never spares himself, that he works
too much. In this way we will dispose him in our
favor."

"Yet are we not going to ask him to write a poem
for you to set to music that I may sing it ? How
can we advise him not to write, and at the same time
beg him to write for us as quickly as possible ? "

" All that will come out right in the conversation ;
it is only necessary to say things at the proper time."

The master wished his pupil to know how to make
herself agreeable to the poet ; but his natural caustic-
ity not allowing him to conceal the absurdities of
others, he himself committed the mistake of prepar-
ing Consuelo for a clear-sighted examination and that
sort of secret contempt which makes us unamiable and

CONSUELO. 97

unsympathetic to those who need to be flattered
and admired without reserve. Incapable of fawning
and deceit, it pained her to hear Porpora sympathiz-
ing with the poet's sufferings, and mocking him cruelly
beneath the appearance of a sincere commiseration
for his imaginary ills. She blushed several times, and
could only preserve an awkward silence, in spite of
her master's signs to second him.

Consuelo's reputation was beginning to spread in
Vienna. She had sung in several houses, and her
admission to the imperial theatre was a question which
caused some excitement in musical circles.

Metastasio was all-powerful; if Consuelo gained
his regard by skilfully flattering his vanity, he might
charge Porpora with the task of setting to music his
" AttiHo Regolo," which he had kept in his drawer for
several years. It was therefore very necessary for the
pupil to plead for the master, for the master did not
at all please the imperial poet. It was not for noth-
ing that Metastasio was an Italian. Italians are not
readily deceived about each other. He had too
much acuteness and penetration not to know that
Porpora had a very moderate admiration for his dra-
matic genius, and that, right or wrong, he had more
than once rudely censured his timid character, his
selfishness, and his false sensibility. Consuelo's icy
reserve, and the small interest which she appeared to
take in his illness, did not seem to him what they
really were, — the constraint of respectful pity. He
saw almost an insult in it, and if he had not been a

98 CONSUELO.

slave to politeness and good-breeding, he would have
refused positively to hear her sing; he consented,
however, after some affectation, objecting the excite-
ment of his nerves and his fear of being agitated. He
had heard Consuelo sing his oratorio, " Judith," but
he needed to form an idea of her in the dramatic
style, and Porpora insisted strongly.

"But what can I do? How shall I sing,'* said
Consuelo, in a low voice, " if I am to take care not to
agitate him? "

" You must agitate him, on the contrary,'' replied
the master in the same tone. " He likes to be
aroused from his torpor, for when he is deeply
moved, he feels in the mood to write."

Consuelo sang an air from "Achille in Scyro,"
Metastasio's best dramatic work, which was set to
music by Caldara in 1736, and performed at the wed-
ding of Maria Theresa. Metastasio was as greatly
struck by her voice and method as when he first heard
her ; but he was resolved to shut himself up in the
same cold and constrained silence which she had pre-
served during his relation of his ills. He did not suc-
ceed ; for the worthy man was an artist before all else,
and when a noble interpreter awakens in the soul of a
poet the accents of his muse and the memories of
his triumphs, no rancor can last.

Metastasio endeavored to defend himself against
this all-powerful charm. He coughed frequently,
moved about on his chair like a man distracted by
suffering, and then, suddenly recalled to memories

CONSUELO. 99

more touching than those of his glory, he hid his
face in his hands, and began to sob. Porpora, hidden
behind his chair, signed to Consuelo not to spare
him, and rubbed his hands together with a sarcastic
expression.

These tears, which were abundant and sincere,
quickly reconciled the young girl to the cowardly
abbe. As soon as she had finished her air, she ap-
proached him to kiss his hand and to say, this time
with a sincerity which carried conviction, —

" Alas, sir, how proud and happy should I be to
have moved you thus, if I did not feel remorse for
it ! The fear of having harmed you poisons my joy ! "

"Ah, my dear child ! " cried the abbe, wholly won
over, " you cannot know the happiness and the pain
you have given me. Never until now have I heard
a woman's voice which recalled to me that of my dear
Marianna ! And you recalled it to me so vividly, as
well as her manner and expression, that I thought I
was listening to her herself! Ah, you have broken
my heart ! '* and he began to sob again.

" His excellency is speaking of a very illustrious
person, whom you should always take as a model, the
celebrated and incomparable Marianna Bulgarini,*'
said Porpora to his pupil.

"The Romanina?" cried Consuelo; "ah ! I heard
her in my childhood in Venice ; it is my first great
memory, and I shall never forget it."

" I see that you have heard her, and that she left
an ineffaceable impression upon you," replied Metas-

lOO CONSUELO,

tasio. " Ah, my child ! imitate her in everything, — in
her acting as in her singing, in her goodness as in her
greatness, in her strength as in her devotion. Ah,
how beautiful she was when she represented the divine
Venus, in the first opera which I wrote at Rome ! It
was to her that I owed my first triumph.*'

*' And it was to your excellency that she owed her
greatest successes," said Porpora.

" It is true that each of us contributed to the
other's fortune. But I never was able to do enough
to repay her. Never did such affection, such heroic
perseverance and such delicate tenderness dwell in
the soul of a mortal. Angel of my life, I shall weep
for thee eternally, and I only long to join thee ! "

Here the abbe wept again. Consuelo was deeply
moved, and Porpora pretended to be ; but in spite of
himself, his expression remained ironical and disdain-
ful. Consuelo observed it, and resolved to reproach
him for this distrust or insensibility. As for Metas-
tasio, he saw only the effect which he wished to pro-
duce, to touch the good Consuelo, and arouse her
admiration. He was of the true race of poets ; that
is, he wept more readily before others than in the
privacy of his chamber, and never felt his affections
or his sorrows so acutely as when he related them
eloquently. Carried away by the occasion, he told
Consuelo of that part of his youth in which Romanina
played so prominent a role, the services which that
generous friend rendered him, the care which she took
of his old parents, the maternal sacrifice which she

CONSUELO. lOI

accomplished in separating from him and sending him
to Vienna to make his fortune ; and when he had
reached the scene of their farewell, when he had
told, in the most care fully chosen and tender language
the way in which his dear Marianna, heart-broken
and her breast heaving with sobs, had exhorted him
to abandon her and to think only of himself, he
cried, —

"Ah, if she had only divined the future which
awaited me far from her, if she had foreseen the pain,
the struggles, the terrors, the anguish, the reverses,
and even the fearful disease which were to be my lot
here, she would have spared herself as well as me so
frightful a sacrifice 1 Alas, little did I think that
our farewell was eternal, that we were never to meet
again upon earth ! "

"What! you never met again?" said Consuelo,
whose eyes were wet with tears, for Metastasio's
words had an extraordinary charm ; " she never came
to Vienna? *'

" Never ! " cried the abbe, with an air of the
deepest dejection.

" After such devotion, she had not the courage to
come here and join you?" said Consuelo, at whom
Porpora was vainly casting terrible glances.

Metastasio did not reply ; he seemed buried in his
thoughts.

"But she may still come," continued Consuelo,
" and she certainly will. This happy event will restore
your health."

I02 CONSUELO.

The abbe turned pale and made a gesture of terror.
The maestro coughed with all his might, and Con-
suelo, recollecting that Roman ina had been dead for
ten years, perceived the frightful blunder which she had
committed in recalling the idea of death to this friend
who, as he said, only longed to join his beloved in the
tomb. She bit her Hps, and soon withdrew with her
master, who carried away from the visit only vague
promises and civil speeches, as usual.

"What have you done, scatterbrains ? " said he to
Consuelo, when they were outside.

" A very stupid thing, I see now. I forgot that
Romanina was no longer alive ; but do you believe,
master, that this man, so loving and so bereaved, is as
much attached to life as it pleases you to say? I
imagine, on the contrary, that the regret at losing his
friend is the only cause of his illness, and that if some
superstitious terror makes him dread the last hour, he
is none the less horribly and sincerely weary of living."

" Child ! " said Porpora, "one is never tired of liv-
ing when one is rich, honored, flattered and in good
health ; and when one has never had other cares and
other passions than these, he lies and plays a comedy
when he curses life."

" Do not say that he never had any other passions.
He loved Marianna, and I now understand why he gave
this beloved name to his god- daughter and niece,
Marianna Martines " —

Consuelo nearly added, "Joseph's pupil," but
stopped suddenly.

CONSUELO. 103

" Go on," said Porpora, " his god-daughter, his
niece, or his daughter."

" They say so \ but what do I care ? "

" That would prove at least that the dear abbe con-
soled himself quickly enough for the absence of his
beloved. But when you asked him (may the devil
take your stupidity !) why his dear Marianna had not
come to join him, he did not answer you, and I will
reply in his place. It is quite true that Romanina
rendered him the greatest services which a man can
accept from a woman. She fed him well, lodged him,
clad him, aided and supported him upon every occasion ;
she helped him greatly to be appointed poeta cesairo.
She made herself the servant, the friend, the sick-nurse,
the benefactress of his old parents. All that is true.
Marianna had a noble heart ; I knew her well. But
what is also true is, that she was ardently desirous of
joining him, by obtaining admission to the court
theatre. And what is still more true is that the abbe
did not in the least wish it, and never permitted it.
Of course letters passed between them, the tenderest
in the world. I have no doubt that those of the poet
were masterpieces. They will be printed ; he knew
it well. But while he told his beloved friend that he
was sighing for the day of their reunion, and was
laboring ceaselessly to cause this happy day to shine
upon their existence, the old fox was arranging mat-
ters so that the unwelcome cantatrice could not break
in upon his illustrious and lucrative love affair with
another Marianna (that name is a lucky one in his life),

I04 CONSUELO,

the noble and all-powerful Countess of Althan, the
favorite of the last Kaiser, with whom, they say, there
has been a secret marriage. Consequently, it seems
to me in very bad taste to tear his hair about this
poor Romanina, whom he allowed to die of sorrow
while he was making madrigals in the arms of the
ladies of the court. '^

" You criticise and judge all this with cruel cynicism,
dear master," said Consuelo sadly.

" I speak as does all the world ; I invent nothing.
It is the voice of the public which proclaims all this.
Bah ! all the actors are not on the stage ; it is an old
proverb."

" The public is not always the best informed, and
in any event, it is never the most charitable. Do you
know, master, I cannot believe that a man of so much
talent can be nothing more than an actor upon the
stage. I saw him weep real tears, and even though
he had to reproach himself with having forgotten his
first Marianna too quickly, his remorse could only add
to the sincerity of his present regret. I prefer to
think him weak rather than base in all this. They
made him an abbe, they loaded him with benefits ;
the court is sanctimonious, and his liaison with an
actress would have created a great scandal. He did
not exactly wish to deceive and desert Romanina ; he
was afraid, he hesitated, he gained time, she died " — ^

"And he thanked Providence for it," added the
pitiless master. "And now our empress sends him
boxes and rings with her cipher in brilliants, pens of

CONSUELO, 105

lapis- lazuli with laurels in brilliants, jars of massive
gold -filled with Spanish tobacco, seals made of a
single large brilliant ; and all this glitters so brightly
that the poet's eyes are always bathed in tears."

"And can all this console him for having broken
Romanina's heart? "

" Very likely not. But the desire for these things
induced him to do it."

" What a pitiful vanity ! As for me, I could hardly
keep from laughing when he showed us his golden
chandelier, with the ingenious device which the
empress had engraved upon it, ' Perche possa ris-
par7niare i suoi occhi I ' "

" That is, indeed, extremely delicate, and it made
him cry out with emphasis, ^ Affetuosa espressiofie
valutabile pill assai deW oro /' Oh, the poor man ! "

"Oh, the unfortunate man!" said Consuelo with
a sigh. And she went in very sad, for she had invol-
untarily made a terrible comparison between the situ-
ation of Metastasio towards Marianna and her own
towards Albert. "To wait and die!" she said to
herself; " is this the fate of those who love passion-
ately? To cause others to wait and die ! Is that the
destiny of those who pursue the chimera of glory? "

" What are you dreaming about? " said the master.
" It seems to me that everything is going well enough,
and that in spite of your stupidity you won Metas-
tasio."

" The conquest of a weak heart is a poor one,"
she replied, " and I do not believe that the man who

io6 CONSUELO.

lacked courage to gain Marianna admission to the im-
perial theatre will find much for me.'*

'^Metastasio governs the empress in matters of
art."

" Metastasio will never advise the empress in mat-
ters of art anything but what she seems to desire, and
it is useless to talk of her majesty's favorites and
counsellors. I saw Maria Theresa's features, and I
tell you, master, that Maria Theresa is too politic to
have lovers, too absolute to have friends."

" Well," said Porpora thoughtfully, " you must win
the empress herself; you must sing in her apartments
some morning and have her speak and talk to you.
They say that she cares only for virtuous people. If
she has that eagle glance with which they credit her,
she will judge you and prefer you. I will make every
effort to have her see you in private."

CONSUELO, 107

CHAPTER VIII.

One morning while Joseph was polishing the floor
of Porpora's ante-chamber, he forgot that the partition
was thin and the maestro's sleep light, and allowed
himself to hum mechanically a musical phrase which
came into his head, and which he accompanied rhyth-
mically with the movement of his brush on the floor.
Porpora, annoyed at being wakened so early, tossed
about on his bed, tried to go to sleep again, and
finally, haunted by this fine, fresh voice which sang
accurately and easily a graceful and well-constructed
phrase, put on his dressing-gown and went to look
through the key-hole, half charmed by what he heard,
and half enraged at the artist who had the impertinence
to come and compose in his house before he rose.
But what a surprise ! It was Beppo who was singing
and dreaming and working out his idea as, with a
preoccupied air, he went about his household duties.

"What are you singing there?" cried the master in
tones of thunder as he threw open the door.

Joseph, dazed like a man suddenly awakened, was
on the point of throwing away the broom and brush
and flying from the house ; but if he had long since
given up all hope of becoming Porpora's pupil, he
still thought himself very fortunate in hearing Consuelo
study with the master, and in receiving the lessons of

Io8 CONSUELO.

this generous friend in secret, when the old man was
absent. For nothing in the world, therefore, would
he have been driven away, and he made haste to lie,
to quiet Porpora's suspicions.

" What am I singing? " he said, with a terrified ex-
pression ; " alas, master, I do not know ! ''

" Can any one sing what he does not know ? You
lie ! "

" I assure you, master, that I do not know what
I was singing. You frightened me so that I have
already forgotten. I know very well that I was
greatly to blame for singing near your room. I am
absent-minded ; I thought myself alone, far from here,
and I said to myself. Now you can sing ; no one is
here to say, * Be silent, you fool ; you are singing
false ; you never can learn music' "

" Who told you that you sang false ? "

« Everybody."

"And I tell you that you do not sing false," cried
the master angrily. " Who tried to teach you
music? "

" Master Reutter, whom my friend Keller shaves,
and who drove me from the cantorei, saying that I
should never be anything but an ass."

Joseph already knew enough about the master's
antipathies to know that he thought little of Reutter,
and he had even counted upon the latter to get him
into Porpora's good graces, in case his old master
should speak ill of him to the Italian. But Reutter,
in the few visits which he had paid to the maestro,

CONSUELO. 109

had not deigned to recognize his former pupil in the
ante-chamber.

^'Master Reutter is an ass himself," murmured
Porpora between his teeth ; " but that is not the ques-
tion," he continued aloud. " I wish you to tell me
when you heard this phrase," and he sang that which
he had heard from Joseph ten times in succession.

"Ah, that!" said Haydn, who was beginning to
augur somewhat better regarding the master's inten-
tions, but who did not yet trust them wholly ; " that
is something which I heard the signora sing."

" Consuelo, my daughter ? I do not know it. So
then, you Usten at doors? "

" Oh, no, sir ! but music goes from room to
room, and one hears in spite of himself."

^' I do not like to be served by people who have so
much memory, and go about singing our unpublished
ideas in the street. You will pack up your things
to-day, and to-night you can look for another situa-
tion."

This sentence fell like a thunderbolt upon poor
Joseph, and he went to weep in the kitchen, where
Consuelo soon came to hear the story of his misad-
venture, and to reassure him by promising to arrange
his difficulty.

"What, master," said she to Porpora, as she took
him his coffee, " are you going to send away this
poor fellow, who is industrious and faithful, because
he happened to sing in tune for the first time in his
life?"

no CONSUELO.

*' I tell you that this lad is a schemer and an im-
pudent liar; that he has been sent here by some
enemy who wishes to learn the secret of my com-
positions, and appropriate them before they have
seen the light. I would wager that the rascal already
knows my new opera by heart, and that he copies
my manuscript when my back is turned. How often
have I been betrayed in this way ! How many of
my ideas have I not recognized in those pretty
operas which attracted all Venice, while they yawned
at mine, and said, * This dotard Porpora gives us
for new, motives which are hummed on every
corner ! * I tell you, the fool betrayed himself this
morning ; he sang a phrase which certainly belongs
to no one but Meinherr Hasse, and which I have
recollected very well. I will write it down ; and to
revenge myself, I will put it in my new opera, to
repay him the trick which he has so often served
me."

" Beware, master ! Perhaps that phrase is not un-
published. You do not know all the contemporary
music by heart."

" But I have heard it all, and I tell you that it is
too remarkable a phrase not to have struck me."

" Many thanks, then, master ; I am proud of the
compliment, for the phrase is mine."

This was not the truth, for the phrase in question
had really bloomed that morning in Haydn's brain ;
but she had her cue, and had already learned it by
heart, so as not to be taken unawares by the sus-

CONSUELO. Ill

picious master. Porpora did not fail to ask her for
it. She sang it at once, and pretended that the day
before she had tried to set to music, to please Abbe
Metastasio, the first Hnes of his pretty pastoral ; —

Gia riede la primavera,
Col suo fiorito aspetto;
Gia il grato zeffiretto
Scherza fra Terbe e i fior.
Tornan le frondi agli alberi,
L'herbette al prato tornano,
Sol non ritorna a me
La pace del mio cor. i

" I had sung my first phrase a number of times,"
she continued, '' when I heard Master Beppo in the
ante-chamber, repeating it all wrong, like a very
canary bird. This made me impatient, and I begged
him to stop ; but an hour later he was humming it on
the staircase, so disfigured that it took away all desire
to continue my air.''

"And how comes it that he sings it so well to-day?
What happened while he was asleep? "

" I will explain that, master. I remarked that the
lad had a fine and, indeed, a true voice, but that he
sang false from lack of ear, reasoning and memory.

iNow smiling spring- returning,

Her flowering face displays ;
While 'midst the opening blossoms

The gentle zephyr strays.
The trees their leaves recover,

The fields in green are drest,
But peace, alas ! will never

Revive my weary breast.

112 CONSUELO,

I amused myself by making him place his voice and
sing a scale after your method, to see if it would
succeed, even with a poor musical organization."

" It must succeed with every organization," cried
Porpora. " There is no such thing as a false voice,
and a practised ear will never " —

''That is what I said to myself," interrupted Con-
suelo, who was in haste to gain her point, " and it
happened so. I succeeded, by the system of your
first lesson, in making this blockhead understand what
Reutter and all the Germans could never have given
him an idea of. After that, I sang him my phrase,
and for the first time he understood it exactly. He
was able to sing it at once ; and he was so astonished,
so amazed, that he has not been able to close his
eyes all night. It was a revelation to him. ' Oh,
signora ! ' he said to me, ' if I had only been taught
in this way, I might perhaps have learned as well as
another. But I confess that I have never been able
to understand anything that they taught at the cantorei
at St. Stephen's.' "

"Then he has really been at the cantorei? "

"And he was shamefully driven away; you have
only to speak of him to Master Reutter ! He will
tell you that Beppo is a scamp, and that you can do
nothing with him in music."

" Here, you ! Come here ! " cried Porpora to
Beppo, who was weeping behind the door. " Come
and stand beside me ; I wish to see if you understood
the lesson which you took yesterday."

CONSUELO. 113

Then the sarcastic master began to teach Joseph
the elements of music in the diffuse, pedantic and
involved manner which he ironically ascribed to the
German masters.

If Joseph, who knew too much not to understand
these elements in spite of the care which Porpora
took to render them obscure, had allowed his intelli-
gence to be seen, he would have been lost. But he
was acute enough not to fall into the trap, and he
resolutely displayed a stupidity which, after a trial
long persevered in by the master, reassured the old
man completely.

" I see that you are very dull," said he, arising and
continuing a feint by which the two others were not
deceived. ^^ Go back to your broom, and try not to
sing any more, if you wish to remain in my house."

But two hours later, spurred by the love of a pro-
fession which he had neglected after practising it so
long without a rival, and unable to resist any further,
Porpora once more became a singing teacher, and
called Joseph back. He explained to him the same
principles, but this time with that clearness and that
powerful and profound logic which classifies and
gives the reason for everything ; in short, with that
incredible simpHcity which belongs only to men of
genius.

This time Haydn saw that he might appear to
understand, and Porpora was delighted with his
triumph. Although the master was instructing him
in things which he had studied for a long while, and

114 CONSUELO.

which he knew as well as possible, this lesson was
interesting and useful to him, for it showed him how
to teach ; and as during the hours when Porpora did
not need him he still went to give lessons in the cit}^
that he might not lose his few pupils, he resolved to
profit by this excellent demonstration without delay.

"Ah, master ! '^ said he to Porpora, continuing his
assumption of simplicity after the lesson was over ;
" I like that music better than the other, and I think
I could learn it. But as for that of this morning, I
would rather go back to the cantorei than attempt it."

" And yet it is the same that they taught you at the
cantorei. Are there two kinds of music, you fool?
There is only one kind of music, as there is only one
God.''

" Oh, I beg your pardon, sir ! there is Master
Reutter's music, which bores me, and yours, which
does not."

" That is a great honor to me. Master Beppo," said
Porpora laughing, and by no means displeased by
the compliment.

From that day Haydn received lessons from Por-
pora, and they soon reached the study of the Italian
method of singing, and the fundamental ideas of
lyric composition. This was what the noble youth
had longed for so ardently and sought so courageously.
He made such rapid progress that the master was
charmed, surprised and sometimes frightened. When
Consuelo saw his old distrust reviving, she would
point out to her young friend how he must act in

CONSUELO. 115

order to banish it. A little stupidity, a feigned inat-
tention, were sometimes necessary to awaken in Por-
pora the genius and passion for teaching, as is always
the case with great faculties, which are made more
forcible and vigorous by obstacles. Joseph was often
obliged to assume laziness and carelessness to obtain,
by pretending to take them regretfully, these precious
lessons which he dreaded to see neglected. The
pleasure of contradicting and the desire of conquer-
ing, would then excite the teasing and quarrelsome
temper of the old singing teacher, and never did
Joseph receive better instruction than that which was
wrung, clear, eloquent and passionate, from the anger
and irony of the master.

While Porpora's house was the theatre of these
occurrences, so frivolous in appearance, but the re-
sults of which played so important a part in the his-
tory of art, since the genius of one of the most fertile
and celebrated composers of the last century there
received its development and sanction, events with a
more immediate influence on Consuelo's life were
going on without. Gorilla, more active in asserting
her own interests and more skilful in pushing them,
was gaining ground every day, and, being perfectly
recovered from her confinement, was already discuss-
ing the terms of her engagement at the court theatre.
A robust singer, but an indifferent musician, she was
far more satisfactory than Consuelo to the director
and his wife. They felt that the learned Porporina
would look critically, if only in her secret thoughts,

Il6 CONSUELO.

upon the operas of Master Holzbauer and the talent
of his wife. They also knew that great artists, badly
supported and compelled to interpret poor ideas, do
not, overwhelmed as they are by the violence done to
their taste and conscience, always preserve that me-
chanical ardor and confident spirit which mediocrities
maintain in the interpretation of the worst com-
positions, and amid the painful cacophony of works
half learned and half understood by their comrades.

Even when, thanks to miracles of will and energy,
they succeed in triumphing over their role and their
surroundings, their envious companions are not grate-
ful to them, while the composer divines their inward
suffering, and is always afraid of seeing this factitious
inspiration cool suddenly and endanger his success.
The public itself, astonished and troubled without
knowing why, feels the monstrous anomaly of a genius
enslaved by a vulgar idea, struggling beneath the
heavy chains which load it, and it is almost with a
sigh that it applauds its valiant efforts. Holzbauer
was quite conscious, for his own part, of the small
liking which Consuelo had for his music. She had
been so unfortunate as to reveal it to him one day
when, disguised as a boy and thinking that she was
addressing one of those persons whom one meets on a
journey for the first and last time in one's life, she
had spoken frankly, little suspecting that her fate as
an artist would soon be for some time in the hands
of the canon's unknown friend. Holzbauer had not
forgotten it, and wounded to the bottom of his heart,

CONSUELO. 117

he had sworn, beneath a calm, reserved and courteous
air, to bar her career. But as he did not wish Por-
pora and his pupil, and what he called their coterie,
to be able to accuse him of a mean vengeance and a
childish sensitiveness, he had told no one but his wife
of his meeting with Consuelo and the adventure at
the rectory breakfast. This meeting did not seem to
have impressed the director in the least ; he appeared
to have forgotten the features of the little Bertoni,
and not to suspect at all that the strolling singer and
Porporina were one and the same person. Consuelo
was at a loss to account for his conduct in this re-
spect.

" I must have been very perfectly disguised on my
journey," she said in confidence to Beppo, " and the
arrangement of my hair must have changed my face
greatly, for this man, who looked at me there with
such clear and penetrating eyes, not to recognize me
now."

" Count Hoditz did not know you, either, when he
met you at the ambassador's," replied Joseph, *^and
perhaps if he had not received your note he would
never have recognized you."

"Yes, but Count Hoditz has such a vague and
haughty manner of looking at people that he really'
does not see them. I am sure that he would not have
suspected my sex at Passau if Baron Trenck had not
informed him of it ; whereas Holzbauer, when he first
saw me here, and each time since that he has met me,
has looked at me with that same scrutinizing and

Il8 CONSUELO.

curious expression which I noticed at the rector/.
From what motive does he generously keep silent con-
cerning an adventure which might have the most dis-
agreeable consequences for my reputation if he chose
to put an evil interpretation upon it, and which might
even embroil me with my master, since he thinks that
I came to Vienna comfortably, quietly and without
romantic adventures? For this same Holzbauer
secretly depreciates my voice and my method, and
does everything to avoid being forced to engage me.
He hates me, and works against me, and yet, having
in his hands more effective arms against me, he does
not use them ! I cannot understand it."

The reason was soon made clear to Consuelo ; but
before reading what happened to her, it must be
remembered that a numerous and powerful clique was
working against her, that Gorilla was beautiful, that
the prime minister Kaunitz saw a great deal of her,
that he loved to dabble in these stage intrigues, and
that Maria Theresa, as a recreation from her graver
labors, liked to hear him chatter about such affairs,
mocking inwardly the littleness of that great mind, and
taking for her own part a certain interest in this
gossip which showed her in little, but with absolute
fidelity, a reproduction of the picture then presented
by the three most important courts in Europe, gov-
erned by intrigues of women, — her own, that of the
Czarina and that of Madame de Pompadour.

CONSUELO, 119

CHAPTER IX.

As every one knows, Maria Theresa gave audience
once a week to whoever wished to speak to her, — a
paternally hypocritical custom, which her son, Joseph
II., always observed religiously, and which is still in
force at the Court of Austria. Besides this, Maria
Theresa readily accorded special audiences to those
who wished to enter her service. Never was a sover-
eign more easy of access.

Porpora had at last obtained that musical audience
in which the empress, having a near view of Con-
suelo's honest face, might perhaps take a marked
liking to her. This was what the master hoped, at
least. Knowing her majesty's strictness in regard to
good morals and respectability of life, he believed
that she would surely be struck by the air of truth and
modesty which shone from Consuelo's whole person.
They were ushered into an apartment where a clavi-
chord had been placed, and where the empress
arrived half an hour after them. She had been
receiving some persons of distinction, and was still
in court dress, as she is shown upon the sequins
stamped with her likeness, — in a brocade gown and
the imperial mantle, with the crown on her head and
a little Hungarian sabre at her side. She was really
handsome in this costume, — not imposing and of an

I20 CONSUELO.

ideal nobility, as it was the affectation of her courtiers
to describe her, but fresh, good-natured, with an open
and happy expression and an air of confidence and
boldness. She was really the King Maria Theresa
whom the Hungarian magnates, sword in hand, had
proclaimed enthusiastically ; but she was, at first sight,
a good king rather than a great king. She had no
coquetry, and the familiarity of her manners revealed
a calm soul, devoid of feminine astuteness. When
one looked at her for a long while, and especially
when she questioned any one persistently, one could
see keenness and even a cold craft upon this smiling
and affable face. But it was a masculine craft, an im-
perial craft, if you like ; it was never gallantry.

*' I will hear your pupil in a little while," she said to
Porpora ; " I know already that she has great knowl-
edge and a magnificent voice, and I have not forgotten
the pleasure which she gave me in the oratorio ^ Be-
tulia Liberata.' But I wish first to speak a little with
her in private. I have several questions to ask her,
and as I count on her frankness, I hope to be able to
grant the protection which she asks.'*

Porpora hastened to go out, reading in her majesty's
eyes a wish to be altogether alone with Consuelo. He
retired to a neighboring gallery, where he was ex-
tremely cold ; for the court, ruined by the expenses
of the war, was governed with great economy, and the
character of Maria Theresa seconded in this respect
the necessities of her position.

When she found herself face to face with the daugh-

CONSUELO. 131

ter and mother of Caesars, the heroine of Germany and
the greatest woman then in Europe, Consuelo yet felt
neither troubled nor timid. Whether the unconcern
of an artist made her indifferent to the armed pomp
which glittered about Maria Theresa, even in her cos-
tume, or whether her noble and frank soul felt itself
the equal of any moral greatness, she waited in a calm
attitude and with perfect serenity of mind until it
should please her majesty to question her.

The empress sat down upon a sofa, pulled a little at
her jewelled baldrick, which hurt her white, round
shoulder, and began thus : —

" I repeat, my child, that I think a great deal of
your talent, and I have no doubt that you have studied
well, and have intelligence in your profession ; but you
must have heard that in my eyes talent is nothing
without good conduct, and that I value a pure heart
more highly than a great genius."

Consuelo listened to this exordium, but it did not
seem to her a reason for praising herself; and as,
moreover, she felt a mortal repugnance to boasting of
the virtues which she practised so simply, she waited
in silence until the empress should question her more
directly concerning her principles and her purposes.
Yet it was the moment to pay the sovereign a well-
turned compliment upon her angelic piety, her sublime
virtues and the impossibility of behaving badly with
her example before one.

Poor Consuelo never thought of profiting by the
occasion. Delicate souls fear to insult a great char-

122 CONSUELO.

acter by giving it vulgar praise ; but sovereigns, if they
are not the dupes of this coarse incense, are at any
rate so much in the habit of breathing it that they ex-
act it as a simple act of submission and etiquette.
Maria Theresa was astonished at the young girl's
silence, and assuming a less gentle tone and a less
encouraging air, she continued, —

" Now, I know, my dear child, that your conduct is
somewhat loose, and that, without being married, you
live here in strange intimacy with a young man of
your own profession whose name I do not now re-
member " —

*' I can only reply one thing to your imperial
majesty," replied Consuelo at last, stung by the in-
justice of this rude accusation; "it is that I have
never committed a single fault the memory of which
can prevent my supporting your majesty's look with
humble pride and grateful joy."

Maria Theresa was struck by the haughty and strong
expression which Consuelo's face assumed at that
moment. Five or six years earlier she would no
doubt have observed it with pleasure and sympathy ;
but Maria Theresa was already a queen to the very
bottom of her heart, and the employment of her power
had given her a kind of intoxication which impelled
her to bend and break everything before her. Maria
Theresa wished to be the only strong being who
breathed in her dominions, both as sovereign and as
woman. She was, therefore, offended by the proud
smile and frank look of this child who was but a worm

CONSUELO. 123

to her, and with whom she had thought to amuse her-
self! for a moment, as with a slave whom one causes to
talk from curiosity.

" I asked you, signora, the name of that young man
who lives with you at Master Porpora's," she went on
in an icy tone, *' and you have not replied to me."

" His name is Joseph Haydn," replied Consuelo,
without being disturbed.

" Well, he entered Porpora's service for love of you,
in the character of valet, and Master Porpora is igno-
rant of the true motives of this young man's conduct,
while you encourage them, — you who are not ignorant
of them."

" I have been calumniated to your majesty. This
young man has never cared for me (Consuelo believed
that she spoke truth), and I even know that his affec-
tion is bestowed elsewhere. If there has been a little
deceit towards my respectable master, the motives
have been innocent, and perhaps praiseworthy. Lx)ve
of art alone induced Joseph to enter Porpora^s ser-
vice ; and since your majesty deigns to judge the
conduct of the least of her servants, as I think it
impossible that anything can escape her clear-sighted
justice, I am sure that she will acknowledge my sin-
cerity when she condescends to judge my cause."

Maria Theresa was too acute not to recognize the
accent of truth. She had not yet lost all the heroism
of her youth, although she was already on that fatal
decline, absolute power, which leads to the extinction
of faith in the most generous souls.

124 CONSUELO.

^' My child, I believe you speak truly, and your
appearance is chaste ; but I see in you a great pride
and a distrust of my maternal goodness which makes
me fear that I can do nothing for you."

"If it is with Maria Theresa's maternal goodness
that I have to do," replied Consuelo, touched by this
expression, the triteness of which she did not under-
stand, *' I am ready to kneel before her and implore
her; but if " —

" Go on, my child," said Maria Theresa, who,
without bemg conscious of it, would have liked to bring
this strange person to her knees; "tell all your
thought."

" If it is with the imperial justice of your majesty,
having nothing to confess, and as a pure breath does
not sully the air which the gods themselves breathe, I
feel all the pride necessary to be worthy of your
majesty's protection."

"Porporina," said the empress, "you are an intel-
ligent girl, and your originality, which might be
offensive to another, does not displease me. I
have already told you that I think you frank, and
yet I know that you have something to confess to me.
Why do you hesitate ? You love Joseph Haydn, and
your relations are pure, I am willing to believe it.
But you love him, since only for the pleasure of see-
ing him oftener (let us even suppose that it is only
from anxiety for his progress in music with Porpora)
you recklessly risk your reputation, which is the most
sacred, the most important thing in the lives of us

CONSUELO, 125

women. But you fear, perhaps, that your master,
your adopted father, will not consent to your union
with a poor and obscure artist. Perhaps, also, —
for I wish to believe all your assertions, — the young
man has bestowed his affections elsewhere, and you,
being proud, as I see that you are, conceal your in-
chnation, and sacrifice your good name generously,
without gaining any personal satisfaction from it.
Well, my dear child, in your place, if I had the
opportunity which now presents itself, and which may
never occur again, I would open my heart to my
sovereign and say to her : ' You who have all power
and wish only what is good, I intrust my fate to you ;
remove all obstacles. By a word you can change the
disposition cf my guardian and of him I love ; you
can make me happy, rehabilitate me in public esteem
and place me in a position sufficiently honorable for
me to dare to aspire to enter the service of the
court.' That is the confidence which you ought to
have in the maternal interest of Maria Theresa, and I
am sorry that you have not understood it.'*

" I understand very well," said Consuelo to her-
self, " that by a strange caprice, the despotism of a
spoiled child, you, the great queen, wish the Zingarella
to embrace your knees, because it seems to you that
her knees do not bend before you, and it is an
unexampled phenomenon. Well, you will not have
that amusement, unless you prove to me that you
clearly deserve my homage."

She had made these reflections, and others besides,

126 CONSUELO,

while Maria Theresa was lecturing her. She had said
to herself that she was staking Porpora's fortune on a
cast of the dice, on a fancy of the empress, and that
it was well worth while to humble herself a little for
the sake of her master's future. But she did not wish
to humble herself in vain. She did not wish to play a
part with a crowned head, who was certainly as expert
in that respect as she was. She would wait until Maria
Theresa made herself really great in her eyes, that she
might be sincere herself in bowing before her.

When the empress had finished her homily, Con-
suelo replied : —

" I will answer all that your majesty has deigned
to say to me if she orders me."

"Yes, speak, speak ! " said the empress, irritated
by this impassible self-possession.

" I will say to your majesty that your mouth is the
first to tell me that my reputation is compromised by
Joseph Haydn's presence in my master's house. I
thought myself of too little importance to incur the
criticisms of the public, and if any one had told me,
as I came to the imperial palace, that the empress
herself judged and condemned my position, I should
have thought I dreamed.*'

Maria Theresa interrupted her. She thought she
detected irony in this reflection of Consuelo's.

"You must not be astonished," she said, in a some-
what emphatic tone, " that I am concerned about the
smallest details in the lives of the beings for whom I
am responsible to God."

CONSUELO, 127

" One may be astonished at what one admires,"
replied Consuelo adroitly ; " and if great things are
the simplest, they are at any rate rare enough to sur-
prise us at first sight."

"You must understand, moreover," went on the
empress, " the especial concern which I have for you
and for all the artists with whom I love to ornament
my court. The stage is, in every country, a school
for scandal, an abyss of vileness. I have the intention,
praiseworthy certainly, if not realizable, of restoring
before men, and of purifying before God, the class of
actors which is the object of blind contempt and
even of the religious proscription of some nations.
While in France the Church closes the doors against
them, I wish the Church here to take them to her
bosom. I have never admitted to my Italian theatre,
my French comedy, or my national theatre, any one
but persons of proved moraHty or those resolved in
good faith to reform their conduct. You must know
that I see that my actors are married, and that I even
hold their children at the baptismal font, being re-
solved to encourage by every possible favor the legit-
imacy of births and the faithfulness of married couples."

" If we had known that," thought Consuelo, " we
would have begged her majesty to be Ang^le^s god-
mother in my place."

" Your majesty sows that she may reap," she re-
plied aloud ; " and if I had a fault upon my con-
science, I should be glad to find in her a confessor
as pitiful as God himself. But " —

128 CONSUELO.

" Go on with what you were about to say a moment
ago/' returned Maria Theresa haughtily.

" I was about to say," Consuelo resumed, " that
being ignorant that I was blamed in connection with
Joseph Haydn's residence in the house in which I
dwell, I had not shown great devotion to him in ex-
posing myself to it."

**I understand," said the empress; "you deny
everything."

" How can I confess what is not true ? " said Con-
suelo. *' I have no inclination for my master's pupil,
nor any desire to marry him ; and if it were other-
wise," she thought, " I would not accept his love
upon an imperial decree."

"Then you wish to remain unmarried?" said the
empress rising. " Well, I declare to you that it is not
a position which offers me all the necessary guaran-
tees on the point of honor. It is unseemly, moreover,
for a young person to appear in certain roles and
represent certain passions when she has not the
sanction of marriage and the protection of a husband.
It depended only upon you to win the day over your
rival, Madame Gorilla, of whom I heard much good,
but who does not pronounce Italian nearly so well
as you. But Madame Gorilla is married and the
mother of a family, which places her in a better
situation in my eyes than that in which you persist in
remaining."

'* Married ! " poor Gonsuelo could not help mur-
muring between her teeth, amazed to see what a

CONSUELO. 129

virtuous person the very virtuous and clear-sighted
empress preferred to her.

" Yes, married," repHed the empress, in a positive
tone, and somewhat irritated at this doubt concerning
her protege. *^ She recently gave birth to a child
whom she placed in the care of a respectable and

laborious clergyman. Canon , that he might give

it a Christian education ; and no doubt that worthy
man would not have undertaken such a task if he had
not been sure that the mother had a right to all his
esteem."

" No doubt," replied the young girl, consoled, in
the midst of her indignation, by seeing that the canon
was approved instead of being censured for this adop-
tion, into which she had forced him.

"This is how history is written, and this is how
kings are enlightened," she said to herself when the
empress had gone out of the room with great dignity,
and making her a slight bend of the head for a salu-
tation. " Well, at the bottom of the worst things
there is always some good, and the errors of men
have sometimes a good result. They will not take
his good priory away from the canon, and Angela
will be left with him ; Corilla will be converted if the
empress takes it in hand ; and I did not get upon
my knees before a woman who is no better than I."

"Well!" cried Porpora in a smothered voice, as
he stood shivering in the gallery, and wringing his
hands from fear and hope ; "I hope we have won."

" We have lost, on the contrary, my good master."

130 CONSUELO.

" How calmly you say that ! May the devil take
you ! "

" You must not say that here, master ! The devil
is in very bad odor at this court. When we have
passed the last door of the palace, I will tell you all."

"Well, what is it?" said Porpora impatiently, as
soon as they were on the rampart.

" Do you recollect, master, what we said about the
great minister Kaunitz as we left the margravine's
mansion? "

" We said that he was an old gossip. Well, has he
been against us? "

" Without any doubt ; and now I say to you that
her majesty the empress, Queen of Hungary, is a
gossip too."

CONSUELO. 131

CHAPTER X.

CoNSUELO related to Porpora only what it was
necessary for him to know of Maria Theresa's motives
in the sort of disgrace into which our heroine had
fallen. The rest would have grieved and annoyed the
master, and perhaps irritated him against Haydn with-
out doing any good. Nor did she wish to tell her
young friend what she concealed from Porpora.
She justly despised these vague accusations which she
knew had been forged for the empress' ear by two or
three personal enemies, and which had not at all cir-
culated among the public. The ambassador, Corner,
to whom she thought it best to confide everything,
agreed with her in this \ and, to prevent malice from
seizing on these embryo calumnies, he arranged matters
wisely and liberally. He induced Porpora to bring
Consuelo to live in his hotel, and Haydn entered the
service of the embassy, and was admitted to the table
of the private secretaries. In this way the old master
escaped from the cares of poverty, Joseph continued
to render Porpora certain personal services which
enabled him to be much with the master and to take
his lessons, and Consuelo was sheltered from malignant
suggestions.

In spite of these precautions, Corilla was engaged
at the imperial theatre in place of Consuelo, who had

132 CONSURLO.

not been able to please Maria Theresa. This great
queen, while amusing herself with the stage intrigues
which Kaunitz and Metastasio half related to her with
delightful wit, wished to play the part of a crowned
providence among all these knights of the buskin, who,
in her presence, assumed the roles of repentant sinners
or converted demons. It is needless to say that among
these hypocrites, who received small salaries and little
presents for their hypocrisy, were found neither Caf-
fariello nor Farinelli, Tesi nor Madame Hasse, nor any
of the great artists whom Vienna possessed in turn,
and whose fame and talent gained pardon for many
things. But the minor parts were sought by persons
resolved to flatter this devout and moral fancy of her
majesty's ; and her majesty, who brought her spirit
of political intrigue to bear upon everything, made the
marriages and conversions of her actors a subject of
pot-house diplomacy. In Favart's " Memoirs " — that
interesting romance which actually occurred behind the
scenes — maybe read the difficulty which he expe-
rienced in sending to Vienna actresses and opera-
singers whom they had ordered from him. They
wanted them cheap, and what was more, as virtuous
as Vestals. I believe that this witty purveyor of Maria
Theresa, after seeking through all Paris, could not find
a single one, which speaks rather for the frankness than
for the virtue of our operatic maidens.

Maria Theresa wished to give to the amusement
which she took in all this an edifying pretext, worthy
of the beneficent dignity of her character. Monarchs

CONSUELO. 133

are ever posing, and great monarchs more, perhaps,
than others. Porpora was fond of saying so, and he
was not mistaken. The great empress, a zealous-
Catholic and an exemplary mother of a family, had no
repugnance to conversing with a prostitute, to cate-
chising her, to provoking her strange confidences, that
she might have the glory of leading a repentant Mag-
dalen to the feet of the Saviour. Her majesty's privy
purse, placed between vice and contrition, made these
miracles of grace numerous and infallible. Therefore,
Gorilla, weeping and prostrate, if not in person (I
doubt whether she could have bent her savage pride
to this comedy), at least by power of attorney to
Count Kaunitz, who guaranteed her new virtue, must
inevitably win the day over a young girl, decided,
haughty and strong, as was the immaculate Consuelo.
Maria Theresa cared only, in her dramatic proteges,
for virtues to the authorship of which she could lay
claim. Virtues which had grown or been preserved
by themselves did not greatly interest her ; she did
not believe in them, as her own virtue should have
caused her to do. Moreover, Consuelo's attitude had
irritated her; she thought her strong-minded and
argumentative. It was too much pride and presump-
tion on the part of a little Bohemian to wish to be
estimable and virtuous without the assistance of the
empress. When Count Kaunitz, who pretended to be
very impartial while he depreciated one to the advan-
tage of the other, asked her majesty whether she had
granted Consuelo's request, Maria Theresa replied, " I

134 CONSUELO.

was not satisfied with her principles ; do not speak to
me of her again." And all was said. The voice, the
face and even the name of Porporina were completely
forgotten.

A single word had been necessary and at the same
time sufficient to explain to Porpora the cause of her
disgrace. Consuelo had been obliged to tell him that
her position as a single woman seemed inadmissible to
the empress. "And Gorilla?** cried Porpora, when
he heard of her admission. " As far as I could under-
stand or guess from her majesty's words, Gorilla passes
here for a widow.'*

" Oh, three times, ten times, a hundred times a widow,
indeed ! " replied Porpora, with a bitter laugh. " But
what will they say when they know the truth, and when
they see her proceed to new and numberless widow-
hoods ? And this child that I have been told of, which
she left near Vienna with a canon ; this child which
she wished to present to Gount Zustiniani, and
which Gount Zustiniani advised her to recommend to
the paternal affection of Anzoleto ? " — " She will laugh
at all that with her comrades ; she will narrate it,
according to her custom, in cynical language ; she will
chuckle, in the privacy of her chamber, over the fine
trick that she has played upon the empress." — " But if
the empress learns the truth? ** — " The empress will
not learn it. Sovereigns are surrounded, I fancy, by
ears which serve as ante-chambers to their own. Many
things remain outside, and nothing enters the sanct-
uary of the imperial ear but what the porters allow to

CONSUELO, 135

pass." — "Besides," added Porpora, "Gorilla will
always have the resource of going to confession, and
it will be Count Kaunitz who sees that she performs
her penance."

The poor maestro gave vent to his ill-humor in
bitter jests, but he was profoundly chagrined. He
lost hope of securing the performance of the opera
which he had ready, and all the more because he had
written it to a libretto which was not by Metastasio,
who had a monopoly of the court poetry. He was
not without some suspicion of the small pains which
Consuelo had taken to win the good graces of the
sovereign, and he could not help showing her his
anger. To crown these misfortunes, the Venetian
ambassador had the imprudence, one day when he
saw him burning with joy and pride at the rapid
development which Joseph Haydn's musical intelli-
gence was showing under his instniction, to tell him
the whole truth about this young man, and to show
him his pretty instrumental compositions, which were
beginning to be known and admired by amateurs.
The master cried out that he had been deceived, and
fell into a fearful rage. Fortunately, he did not sus-
pect that Consuelo was the accomphce of this strata-
gem, and Signor Corner, seeing the storm that he
had aroused, hastened to ward oif his suspicions from
this quarter by a good lie. But he could not prevent
Joseph from being banished for several days from the
master's chamber ; and it required all the ascendency
which his protection and his services gave him over

13^ CONSUELO.

the latter to restore the pupil to favor. Porpora bore
him a grudge for a long while, and they even say that
he took pleasure in making him buy his lessons by
the humiliation of a service longer and more minute
than was necessary, since the ambassador's lackeys
were at his disposal. Haydn did not rebel, and, by
force of gentleness, patience and devotion, always
encouraged and exhorted by the good Consuelo, and
always studious and attentive, he succeeded in dis-
arming his rough master, and in receiving from him
all that he could and wished to learn.

But Haydn's genius tended in another direction
from that in which he had thus far worked, and the
future father of the symphony confided to Consuelo
his ideas concerning orchestral scores, developed to
gigantic proportions. Those gigantic proportions,
which seem to us now so simple and modest, might
have passed, a hundred years ago, for the Utopia of
a madman as readily as for the revelation to genius
of a new era. Joseph still distrusted himself, and it
wat> not without terror that he confessed to Consuelo
the ambition which tormented him. Consuelo was
also a little frightened by it at first. Until that time,
the instrumental part had had but a secondary role,
or, when it was separated from the human voice, its
methods were not complicated. Still, there was so
much calmness and gentle perseverance in her young
associate, he showed in all his conduct and opinions
so real a modesty and so coldly conscientious a search
for truth, that Consuelo, unable to consider him rash,

CONSUELO, 137

decided to believe him wise and to encourage him in
his projects. It was at this time that Haydn com-
posed a serenade for three instruments, which, with two
of his friends, he went about performing beneath the
windows of the dilettanti whose attention he wished
to call to his works. He began with Porpora, who,
without knowing the names of the author and players,
went to his window, listened with pleasure and ap-
plauded unreservedly. This time the ambassador, who
was also listening and in the secret, was upon his guard
and did not betray the young composer. Porpora
did not like pupils, while taking his singing lessons,
to allow themselves to be distracted by other thoughts.
Porpora received at this time a letter from the
excellent contralto Hubert, that one of his pupils,
who was called Porporino, was attached to the
service of Frederick the Great. This eminent artist
was not, like the master's other pupils, so infatuated
with his own merit that he forgot all that he owed
him. Porporino had received from him a kind talent
which he had never sought to modify, and with which
he had always been successful ; it was to sing in a
broad, pure style, without creating ornaments, and
without departing from the wholesome traditions of
his teacher. He was especially admirable in adagios.
Porpora had, therefore, a preference for him which
he had great trouble in concealing in the presence
of the fanatical admirers of Farinelli and Caffariello.
He admitted that the faciHty, the brilliancy and the
flexibility of these great virtuosos were more dazzling,

138 CONSUELO.

and would more swifdy delight an audience enam-
oured of marvellous difficulties ; but he said to him-
self that his Porporino never made concessions to
poor taste, and that people never tired of listening to
him, although he always sang in the same manner.
It seems that Prussia did, in fact, never tire of him,
for he was successful there during his whole musical
career, and died there at an advanced age, after a
residence of more than forty years.

Hubert's letter told Porpora that his music was
greatly liked at Berlin, and that if he would come
there Porporino would engage to have his new com-
positions received and performed. He urged him
strongly to leave Vienna, where the artists were con-
tinually victims to the intrigues of cabals, and to
recruit for the court of Prussia a distinguished canta-
trice who could sing the maestro's operas with him.
He gave high praise to the enlightened taste of his
king, and the honorable protection which he extended
to musicians. " If this plan pleases you," he said in
finishing his letter, " write me your demands at once,
and within three months I will guarantee to obtain
conditions for you which will at least secure you a
peaceful existence. As for glory, my dear master,
you only need to write, and we will sing in such a way
as to make you appreciated ; and I hope that the fame
of it will reach Dresden."

This last phrase caused Porpora to prick up his
ears like an old war-horse. It was an allusion to the
triumphs which Hasse and his singers were winning at

CONSUELO. 139

the court of Saxony. The idea of counterbalancing
the glory of his rival in the north of Germany pleased
the master so much, and he felt at that moment such
disgust for Vienna, the Viennese, and their court, that
he replied without hesitation to Porporino, authorizing
him to make proposals for him at Berlin. He wrote
his ultimatum, and made it as modest as possible, to
avoid a failure. He spoke to Hubert of Porporina
with the highest praise, saying that she was his sister
in education, genius and heart, as she was in name,
and urged him to arrange her engagement on the best
possible conditions. All this was done without con-
sulting Consuelo, who was informed of this new reso-
lution after the departure of the letter.

The poor child was frightened at the mere
name of Prussia, and that of the great Frederick
caused her to shudder. Since the adventure of the
deserter, she had thought of this much-praised mon-
arch only as an ogre and a vampire. Porpora scolded
her for the little joy which she showed at the idea of
this new engagement ; and as she could not tell him
the story of Karl and the exploits of Herr Mayer, she
hung her head and submitted to the lecture.

When she reflected, however, she found in this
project some relief from her position. Her return
to the theatre would be postponed, since the affair
might fall through, and in any case Porporino asked
for three months to settle it. Meanwhile, she could
dream of Count Albert's love, and find the resolution
to return it. Whether she ultimately accepted the

140 CONSUELO.

possibility of a union with him, or felt unable to
decide upon it, she could at any rate keep honestly
and frankly the engagement which she had taken to
think of it without distraction or constraint.

She resolved to defer announcing this news to her
friends at Reisenburg until Count Christian had
replied to her first letter ; but this reply never came,
and Consuelo was beginning to believe that old
Rudolstadt had given up all idea of this misalliance,
and was endeavoring to induce Albert to renounce it,
when Keller furtively slipped into her hand a little
letter, written in these terms : —

You promised to write to me; you have done it indirectly by
telling my father of the embarrassment of your present situa-
tion. I see that you are fulfilling a duty from which I should
think it a crime to withdraw you, although my good father is
frightened for my sake at the consequences of your obedience
to Porpora. As for me, Consuelo, I am frightened at nothing
thus far, since you explain to my father your regret and dread
of the course which you are urged to follow; this is a sufficient
proof to me that you do not intend lightly to sentence me to
eternal despair. No, you will not break your word, you will try
to love me ! What care I where you are, what your employ-
ment, what rank glory or prejudice assigns you, or what obstacles
keep you from me, if I can hope and you can tell me to hope !
I suffer much, no doubt, but I can suffer still more, without fail-
ing, so long as you have not extinguished in me the spark of hope.

I am waiting; I know how to wait ! Do not fear to frighten
me by taking time to reply to me; do not reply to me under the
influence of a fear or pity to which I do not wish to owe any
consideration. Weigh my fate in your heart and my soul in
your own, and when the moment has come, when you are sure

CONSUELO. 141

of yourself, whether you are in the cell of a nun or on the stage
of a theatre, tell me never to trouble you or to come to you, and
I will be at your feet or silent forever, as you will.

Albert.

"Oh, noble Albert! " cried Consuelo, raising this
paper to her lips, " I feel that I love you ! It would
be impossible not to love you, and I will not hesitate
to tell you so. I wish to recompense with my prom-
ise the constancy and devotion of your love."

She began to write at once ; but Porpora's voice
caused her hastily to conceal in her breast both Al-
bert's letter and the reply which she had begun.
During her whole day she did not fmd an instant's
leisure and quiet. It seemed as if the acute old man
had guessed her desire to be alone, and had set
deliberately about thwarting her. When night came
Consuelo felt more calm, and understood that so grave
a determination required a longer trial of her own
feelings. It would not do to expose Albert to the
fatal effects of a change of mind on her part. She
read the young count's letter a hundred times, and
saw that he was as much afraid of a hasty promise
as of the pain of a refusal. She resolved to think over
her reply for several days ; Albert himself seemed to
exact it.

The life which Consuelo was then leading at the
embassy was very quiet and orderly. To avoid scan-
dal, Corner had the delicacy never to Visit her in her
apartments, or to invite her, even though accompanied
by Porpora, into his own. He met her only at Madame

142 CONSUELO.

Wilhelmina's, where he could speak to her without
compromising her, and where she obhgingly sang in
small companies. Joseph was also invited there to
take part in the music. Caffariello came there often,
Count Hoditz sometimes and Metastasio rarely. All
three deplored Consuelo's failure, but no one of them
had had the courage or perseverance to fight for her.
Porpora was indignant, and had great difficulty in
concealing it. Consuelo endeavored to calm him,
and to persuade him to accept men with their faults
and their weaknesses. She urged him to work, and
thanks to her, he recovered from time to time a few
rays of hope and enthusiasm. She only encouraged
him in the irritation which prevented him from taking
her into society to sing. Happy at being forgotten
by the great, whom she had seen with fright and
repulsion, she devoted herself to serious study, to
sweet reveries, cultivated the now calm and holy
friendship of the good Haydn, and said to herself
every day, as she took care of the old professor, that
if nature had not made her for a life without emo-
tion and movement, it had made her still less for the
emotions of vanity and the activity of ambition. She
had dreamed, she still dreamed in spite of herself,
of livelier joys of the heart and of more extended
and acute intellectual pleasures ; but as the world of
art which she had imagined so pure, sympathetic and
noble appeared to her eyes only under a terrible
aspect, she preferred an obscure and retired Hfe,
gentler affections and a laborious solitude.

CONSUELO. 143

Consuelo had no new reflections to make con-
cerning the offer of the Rudolstadts. She could not
conceive any doubt of their generosity, of the unal-
terable purity of the love of the son, of the indulgent
tenderness of the father. She needed no longer to
consult her reason or her conscience. Both spoke in
fiivor of Albert. She had triumphed this time over
the memory of Anzoleto without an effort. A victory
over love gives strength for every other. She no
longer feared temptation ; she felt safe from every
fascination. But with all that, passion did not speak
strongly for Albert in her soul. She had still to ques-
tion her heart, at the bottom of which a mysterious
calm received the idea of an absorbing love. Seated
at her window, the innocent child would often watch
the young towns-people passing. Bold students, noble
lords, melancholy artists and gay cavaliers were all
the objects of a chastely and seriously childish scrutiny
on her part. " Come," she said to herself, " is my
heart fanciful and frivolous? Am I capable of loving
suddenly, madly and irresistibly at first sight, as
many of my companions at the scuola boasted or
confessed to each other that they did? Is love a
magic lightning- stroke which stuns our being and
turns us violently away from our sworn affections or
our peaceful ignorance ? Is there among these men
who sometimes raise their eyes to my window a
glance which disturbs and fascinates me? Does this
one, with his fine figure and proud bearing, seem to
me more noble or handsomer than Albert? Does

144 CONSUELO,

this other, with his beautiful hair and elegant costume,
drive away the picture of my betrothed ? Should 1
like to be that richly dressed lady whom I see passing
there in her carriage, with a superb gentleman who
holds her fan and hands her her gloves? Is there
anything in all that which causes me to tremble, to
blush, to palpitate or to dream ? No, no, really !
Speak, my heart ! I consult you and give you free
rein. I hardly know you, alas ! I have had so little
time to care for you since I was born. I had not
accustomed you to being thwarted. I allowed
you to rule my life, without considering the prudence
of your impulses. You were broken, my poor heart,
and now that conscience controls you, you no longer
dare to live, you can no longer reply. Speak ! Awake
and choose ! What, still silent ? You will not tell me
what you wish ? — No. You do not want Anzoleto ? —
Oh, no ! Then you are calling Albert ? It seems to
me that you say yes." And Consuelo would leave her
window every day with a fresh smile on her lips and a
clear and gentle fire in her eyes.

After a month, she replied to Albert with a cool
head, very slowly, and almost feehng her pulse at
every letter which she wrote.

''I love nothing but you, and I am almost sure
that I love you. Now let me contemplate the possi-
bility of our union. Think of it yourself; let us be-
tween us find a way to afflict neither your father nor
my master, and not to become selfish in becoming
happy."

CONSUELO, 145

She joined to this note a short letter to Count
Christian, in which she told him of the quiet life
which she was leading, and of the respite which Por- •
pora's new plans afforded her. She asked him to
find means to disarm Porpora, and to inform her
of them in a month. A month would still remain
to prepare the master, before the Berlin affair was
settled.

Consuelo, having sealed these two notes, placed
them on her table and went to sleep. A delicious
calmness had entered her soul, and not for a long
while had she enjoyed so deep and agreeable a sleep.
She awoke late, and hastened to rise to see Keller,
who had promised to come for her letter at eight
o'clock. It was nine, and as she dressed with great
haste, Consuelo was frightened to see that the letter
was no longer where she had placed it. She sought
it everywhere in vain. She went out to see if Keller
was not waiting for her in the ante-chamber. Neither
Keller nor Joseph was there, and as she was returning
to her own room to seek it still further, Porpora came
in and looked at her severely.

"What are you looking for?" he said.

"A sheet of music that I have mislaid."

"That is not true ; you are looking for a letter."

"Master" —

" Be silent, Consuelo ! You do not know how to
lie yet ; never learn."

" Master, what have you done with this letter? "

" I gave it to Keller."

146 CONSUELO.

"Why did you give it to him, master? "

" Because he came for it. You told him to do so
yesterday. You cannot dissemble, Consuelo, or else
my ears are sharper than you think."

*'Well," said Consuelo resolutely, "what have you
done with my letter? "

" I have told you ; why do you ask me again ? I
thought it very unseemly for a young girl, virtuous as
you are, and, I presume, wish to be always, to give
her letters secretly to her hairdresser. To prevent
this man from having a bad idea of you, I calmly
handed him your letter, and charged him for you to
send it off. He will not think, at any rate, that you
are hiding a guilty secret from your adopted father."

" Master, you are right, you have done well. Par-
don me."

" I pardon you ; let us say no more about it."

"And — you read my letter?" said Consuelo, with
a timid and coaxing air.

"What do you take me for?" replied Porpora, in
a terrible tone.

" Forgive me for all this," said Consuelo, kneeling
before him, and trying to take his hand ; " let me
open my heart to you " —

" Not a word more ! " replied the master, pushing
her away, and going into his own room, the door of
which he slammed noisily behind him.

Consuelo hoped that when this first storm had
blown over she could quiet him and have a decisive
explanation with him. She felt strong enough to tell

COiVSUELO, 147

him her whole mmd, and she flattered herself that
she would in this way hasten the accomplishment of
her projects ; but he refused any explanation, and
his resolution was unshakable on this point. In other
respects he was as friendly as usual, and from that
day had even more brightness in his wit and courage
in his heart. Consuelo augured well from this, and
waited confidently for her reply from Reisenburg.

Porpora had told the truth ; he had burned Con-
suelo's letters without reading them. But he had
kept the envelope, and had substituted a letter of his
own to Count Christian. He thought that by this
bold expedient he had saved his pupil, and preserved
old Rudolstadt from a sacrifice above his strength.
He believed that he had performed towards him the
duty of a faithful friend, and towards Consuelo that
of a strong and wise father. He did not see that he
might be giving Count Albert his death-blow. He
hardly knew him. He felt sure that Consuelo had
exaggerated, and that this young man was neither so
much in love nor so ill as she imagined. In short,
he believed, like all old men, that love is short-lived,
and that sorrow never kills.

hS consuelo.

CHAPTER XI.

•

While awaiting an answer which was never to
come, since Porpora had burned her letter, Consuelo
continued the studious and calm life which she had
adopted. Her presence attracted to Madame Wil-
helmina^s drawing-room some very distinguished
persons whom she had great pleasure in often
meeting there, among them Baron Frederick von
Trenck, for whom she took a great liking. He had
the delicacy not to approach her as an old acquaint-
ance the first time that he saw her again, but to be
presented to her, after she had sung, as a profound
admirer of what he had just heard. When she saw
this handsome and generous young man, who had
saved her so bravely from Mayer and his band, Con-
suelo's impulse was to hold out her hand. The
baron, who did not wish her to commit an impru-
dence from gratitude towards him, quickly took her
hand respectfully, as if to lead her to a chair, and
pressed it gently to thank her. She learned after-
wards from Joseph, of whom Trenck took music
lessons, that he never failed to ask after her with
interest, and to speak of her with admiration ; but
that, from a feeling of most exquisite discretion, he
had never put the smallest question to him on the
motive of her disguise, on the reason of their adven-

CONSUELO. 149

turous journey, or on the nature of the feelmgs which
they might have had, or might still have, for each
other.

" I do not know what he thinks," added Joseph,
" but I assure you that there is no woman of whom he
speaks with more esteem and respect than of you."

" In that case, my friend," said Consuelo, " I
authorize you to tell him all our story, and all mine, if
you like, without naming the Rudolstadts, of course.
I need to be esteemed unreservedly by this man to
whom we owe our lives, and who has behaved so
nobly to us in every respect."

A few weeks later. Baron von Trenck, having
scarcely finished his mission, was recalled suddenly
by Frederick, and came to the embassy one morning
to bid a hasty farewell to Signor Corner. Consuelo,
who was just going out, met him under the portico.
As they were alone there, he went to her and took
her hand, which he kissed tenderly.

"Allow me to express," he said to her, " for the first
and perhaps for the last time, the sentiments toward
you with which my heart is filled ; I did not need
Beppo's story to respect you thoroughly. There are
faces which never deceive, and I wanted only a
glance to feel and divine in you a great intelligence
and a noble heart. If I had known at Passau that
our dear Joseph was so Httle on his guard, I would
have protected you against Count Hoditz's advances,
which I foresaw only too well, though I did my best
to make him understand that he was dealing with the

150 CONSUELO,

wrong person, and would make himself ridiculous.
However, that good Hoditz has told me himself how
you made sport of him, and he is very grateful to you
for keeping his secret. I shall never forget the
romantic adventure which gained me the happiness
of knowing you, and though I have to pay for it with
my fortune and my life, I shall still esteem it one of
the happiest days of my existence."

" Do you believe, baron," said Consuelo, ^^ that it
can have such results? "

*' I hope not, but everything is possible at the court
of Prussia."

" You make me very much afraid of Prussia, and
yet, baron, it is possible that I may have the pleasure
of seeing you there. There is some likelihood of my
being engaged for Berlin."

"Really? " cried Trenck, whose face Ht up with a
sudden joy; "well, God send that this project be
realized ! I can be useful to you at Berlin, and you
must count on me as on a brother. Yes, I love you like
a brother, Consuelo, and if I had been free, I might not
perhaps have been able to defend myself against a
stronger sentiment. But you are not free, either, and
sacred eternal ties will not allow me to envy the happy
gentleman who is trying to win your hand. Whoever
he is, madam, be sure that he will find a friend in me
if he wishes, and if he ever needs me, a champion
against the prejudices of the world. Alas, Consuelo !
there is in my life also a terrible barrier which rises
between the object of my love and me ; but he whom

CONSUELO. 151

you love is a man and can break down the barriers ;
while the woman I love, who is of a higher rank than
mine, has neither the power, the right, the strength
nor the liberty to raise me to it."

"Then lean do nothing for her nor for you?"
said Consuelo. " For the first time in my Hfe, I
regret the impotence of my poor condition."

"Who knows?" cried the baron. "You may
perhaps be able to do more than you think, if not
to unite us, at least to diminish sometimes the horror
of our separation. Would you have the courage to
brave danger for us? "

" As gladly as you risked your life to save me."

"Very well, I count on you. Remember this
promise, Consuelo. I may perhaps recall it to you
suddenly " —

" At whatever hour of my life it may be, I shall
not have forgotten it," replied she, holding out her
hand.

" AVell," said he, " give me a sign, a token of little
value, which I can restore to you when necessary ;
for I have a presentiment that great trouble is await-
ing me, and there may be circumstances in which
my signature or even my seal would compromise her
and you."

"Would you like this music book, which I was
going to take to some one from my master ? I can
get another, and I will make a mark in this so that I
can know it on occasion."

" Why not ? A music book is indeed the easiest

152 CONSUELO.

thing to send without arousing suspicion. But that it
may serve me several times, I will separate the leaves.
Make a sign on every page.'*

Consuelo, leaning on the balustrade, wTote the
name Bertoni on every leaf of the book. The baron
rolled it up and carried it away, after swearing eternal
friendship for our heroine.

Just at this time Madame Tesi fell ill, and there
was great danger that the performances at the im-
perial theatre would have to be suspended, for she
filled the most important roles. If worst came to
worst^ Gorilla could replace her. She had been suc-
cessful with both court and city. Her beauty and
coquetry had turned the heads of all these good
German gentlemen, and they never thought of being
critical about her rather worn voice and somewhat
epileptic acting. Everything was lovely in so lovely
a woman. Her snowy shoulders delivered admirable
sounds, her round and voluptuous arms always sang
true, and her superb poses performed with ease the
greatest vocal feats. In spite of the musical purism
on which they prided themselves there, they sub-
mitted, like the Venetians, to the fascination of a
languishing look, and Madame Gorilla prepared, in
her boudoir, many persons to admire her enthusiasti-
cally upon the stage.

She offered herself boldly, therefore, to sing
Madame Tesi's roles in her absence ; but the difficulty
was in replacing Gorilla herself in the parts which
she had heretofore sung. Madame Holzbauer's fluty

CONSUELO, 153

voice did not permit her to think of it, and it was
therefore necessary to accept Consuelo, or to get
along with a very weak singer. Porpora worked Hke
a demon. Metastasio, horribly dissatisfied with
Gorilla's Lombard pronunciation, and indignant at
the efforts which she made to eclipse the other roles
(contrary to the spirit of the poem, and in spite of the
situation), no longer concealed his dislike for her and
his preference for the conscientious and intelligent
Porporina. Caffariello, who was paying court to
Madame Tesi (who already detested Gorilla cordially
for having dared to dispute her effects and the
sceptre of beauty with her), cried out boldly for Con-
suelo's admission. Holzbauer, anxious to sustain the
honor of his theatre, but frightened at the ascendency
which Porpora would soon gain if he had only one
foot upon the stage, did not know which way to turn.
Gonsuelo's good behavior had gained her enough
partisans to render it difficult to impose longer upon
the empress. As a consequence of all these motives,
proposals were made to Gonsuelo. By making them
mean, it was hoped that she would refuse them.
Porpora accepted them at once, and, as usual, with-
out consulting her. One fine morning Gonsuelo
found herself engaged for six performances, and with-
out being able to avoid them, or understanding why,
after waiting six weeks, she received no news from
Rudolstadt, she was dragged by Porpora to the re-
hearsal of Metastasio's "Antigono," set to music by
Hasse.

154 CONSUELO.

Consuelo had already studied her part with Por-
pora. No doubt it was a great trial for the latter to
have to teach her the music of his rival, the most
ungrateful of his pupils, the enemy whom he most
hated ; but, besides that it was necessary to undergo
this to open the door to his own compositions, Por-
pora was too upright an artist not to bring all his care
and zeal to this study. Consuelo seconded him so
generously that he was at once delighted and dis-
tressed. In spite of herself, the poor child thought
Hasse magnificent, and she felt more deeply the
tender and passionate songs of the Saxon than the
grandeur, sometimes a little cold and naked, of her
own master. Accustomed, in studying the works of
other composers with him, to give herself up to her
enthusiasm, she now felt obliged to contain herself,
seeing the sadness of his face and the dejectedness of
his revery after the lesson. When she went upon
the stage to rehearse with Caffariello and Gorilla,
although she knew her part thoroughly, she felt so
agitated that she could hardly open the scene of
Ismene with Berenice, which begins with these

words : —

"No; tutto, o Berenice
Tu non apri il tuo cor." *

To which Gorilla replied with these : —

*' . . . E ti par poco
Quel che sai de' miei casi? "'

1 ♦« No, Berenice, you do not open your heart frankly."

J «< Does what you know of my adventures seem little to you? "

CONSUELO. 155

At this point, Gorilla was interrupted by a great
burst of laughter from Caffariello j and turning tow-
ards him with eyes flashing with anger, she asked, —

"What do you find so amusing in that? "

"You said it very well, my fat Berenice," replied
Caffariello, laughing still louder, "no one could say
it with more sincerity."

" The words amuse you ? " said Holzbauer, who
would not have been sorry to repeat to Metastasio
the sopranist's jokes about his verses."

"The words are beautiful," dryly replied Caffariello,
who knew his ground thoroughly ; " but their applica-
tion on this occasion is so perfect that I cannot help
laughing."

And he held his sides, repeating to Porpora, —

*' E ti par poco
Quel che sai di tanti casi? "

Gorilla, seeing what a scathing commentary upon
her morals was conveyed in these words, and trem-
bling with rage, hatred and fear, almost rushed upon
Consuelo to disfigure her ; but the Zingarella's face
was so calm and gentle that she did not dare. Be-
sides, as the faint light of the theatre fell upon her
rival's features, she stopped, struck by odd reminis-
cences and strange terrors. She had never seen her
by daylight nor so closely at Venice. Amid the pains
of childbirth, she had confusedly seen the little Zin-
garo Bertoni assisting her, and she had been unable
to understand his devotion. At that moment she was

156 CONSUELO,

trying to collect her memories, and not succeeding in
it, she remained under the influence of an anxiety
and discomfort which troubled her during the whole
rehearsal. The manner in which Porporina sang her
part added not a little to her ill-humor, and the pres-
ence of Porpora, her former master, who, like a
severe judge, listened to her in silence and with an
almost contemptuous air, became little by little a real
torture to her. Holzbauer was not less mortified
when the maestro declared that he was giving the
movements all wrong ; and it was necessary to be-
lieve him, for he had been present at the rehearsals
which Hasse himself had conducted at Dresden when
the opera was produced. Their need of good advice
caused ill-will to yield and silenced irritation. Por-
pora conducted the whole rehearsal, taught every one
his part, and even corrected Caffariello, who pre-
tended to listen to him respectfully, to give him
more weight with the others. Caffariello was only
anxious to wound Madame Tesi's impertinent rival,
and he stopped at nothing that day to have this
pleasure, not even at an act of modesty and submis-
sion. It is thus with artists as with diplomats, on the
stage as in the council- room of sovereigns, that the
most beautiful and the ugliest things have hidden
causes which are infinitely small and frivolous.

When she returned home after the rehearsal, Con-
suelo found Joseph filled with a mysterious joy ; and
when they were alone, he told her that the good canon
had arrived in Vienna, and that his first care had been

CONSUELO. 157

to send for his dear Beppo and give him an excellent
breakfast, asking him a thousand tender questions
about his dear Bertoni. They had already decided
upon the means by which he should make Por-
pora's acquaintance, that they might see each other
openly and without concealment. The next day the
canon was introduced as a protector of Joseph Haydn,
a great admirer of the maestro, and desirous of thank-
ing him for the lessons he had given his young friend.
Consuelo appeared to meet him for the first time, and
that evening the master and the two pupils were given
a friendly dinner at the canon's house. Unless he
had assumed a stoicism on which not even the great-
est musicians of that time prided themselves greatly,
it would have been difficult for Porpora not to take a
sudden liking for this good canon, who kept such an
excellent table and who had such a just appreciation
of his compositions. They had music after dinner,
and from that time saw one another almost every
day.

Consuelo found a distraction in this from the
anxiety which she was beginning to feel because of
Albert's silence. The canon had a cheerful mind,
pure yet broad, delicate in many respects, just and
enlightened in others. He was an excellent friend
and a perfectly amiable man. His company animated
and strengthened the master, whose humor became
gentler, in consequence of which Consuelo's Ufe grew
more agreeable.

One day when there was no rehearsal (it was two

158 CONSUELO.

days before the performance of " Antigono "), Porpora
having gone to the country with a fellow musician,
the canon proposed to his young friends a descent
upon the priory, to surprise those of his servants whom
he had left there, and to see for himself, by falling
upon them like a bomb- shell, whether the gardener's
wife took good care of Angele, and whether her hus-
band did not neglect the volkameria. The canon's
carriage was loaded with pasties and bottles (for they
could not make an excursion of four leagues without
becoming hungry), and they arrived at the benefice
after having made a slight detour and left the carriage
a little distance off, the better to accomphsh the sur-
prise.

The volkameria was perfectly well ; it was warm,
and its roots were moist. It had ceased to bloom
with the return of the cold weather, but its pretty
leaves curled crisply upon its slender stems. The
greenhouse was in good order, and the blue chrysan-
themums, braving the winter, seemed to laugh behind
the glass. Angele, hanging at the nurse's breast, be-
gan to laugh too, when they played with her ; but the
canon said very wisely that they must not abuse this
good- nature, because forced laughter, provoked too
often in these little creatures, develops a nervous tem-
perament in them.

They were talking together pleasantly in the gar-
dener's pretty cottage ; the canon, wrapped in a furred
great-coat, was toasting his shins before ^a huge fire of
dried roots and pine cones ; Joseph was playing with

CONSUELO. 159

the gardener's pretty children ; and Consuelo, seated
in the middle of the room, was holding Angele in her
arms and looking at her with a mixture of tenderness
and sorrow. It seemed to her that this child belonged
to her more than to any one else, and that a mysteri-
ous fatality connected the destiny of this little being
with her own, when the door opened suddenly and
Gorilla appeared before her, like a vision called up by
her melancholy revery.

For the first time since her confinement Gorilla had
felt, if not a glow of love, at least a touch of maternal
remorse, and had come to see her child in secret. She
knew that the canon was living in Vienna ; arriving
half an hour after him and not seeing even the tracks
of his carriage at the gate (since he had made a detour
before entering), she came stealthily through the gar-
dens without seeing any one, and to the house where
Angele was at nurse, for she had not failed to learn
something about her. She had laughed a great deal
at the embarrassment and the Ghristian resignation of
the canon, but she was ignorant of the part which
Gonsuelo had taken in the adventure. It was, there-
fore, with surprise mingled with dread and consterna-
tion that she saw her rival in this spot ; and not
knowing, not daring to guess, what child she held in
her arms, she nearly turned upon her heel and fled.
But Gonsuelo, who had pressed the child to her breast
by an instinctive movement as a partridge covers its
chicks with its wings when a hawk comes near ; Gon-
suelo, who was at the theatre, and who could on the

l6o CONSUELO.

morrow throw a different light upon the comedy which
Gorilla had all along been describing in her own way ;
Consuelo, who was looking at her with a mixture of
fright and consternation, — held her fascinated in the
middle of the room.

But Gorilla was too consummate an actress to lose
her wits and her tongue very long. Her tactics were
to forestall humiliation by insult, and, to get her hand
in, she began by this apostrophe, spoken in the Vene-
tian dialect, in a light but bitter tone.

" Per Dio ! my poor Zingarella, is this house a
foundling hospital? Have you come here to find or
leave your own? I see that we run the same risks
and have the same luck. No doubt our two children
have the same father, since our adventures date from
the same period in Venice, and I was sorry for your
sake to see that it was not to join you, as we thought,
that the handsome Anzoleto deserted us in the middle
of his engagement last season."

"Madam," replied Gonsuelo, pale but calm, "if I
had the happiness of being a mother (for it is always
a happiness to one who knows how to feel it), my
child would not be here."

" Ah, I understand ! " replied the other, with a
smouldering fire in her eyes, *' it would have been
brought up at the Zustiniani villa. But you have
not had the misfortune — or so you pretend — to be
Anzoleto's mistress. They say tliat Joseph Haydn, your
master's pupil, consoled you for all your misfortunes,
and no doubt the child which you are holding " —

CONSUELO. l6l

" Is your own, signorina," cried Joseph, who now
understood the dialect very well, and who came for-
ward between Consuelo and Gorilla with an expression
which caused the latter to draw back. " It is Joseph
Haydn who certifies to it, for he was present when you
brought it into the world."

Joseph's face, which Gorilla had not seen since that
unlucky day, immediately recalled to her all the cir-
cumstances which she had tried in vain to recollect,
and she at last saw the Zingaro Bertoni in the features
of the Zingarella Gonsuelo. She uttered a cry of sur-
prise, and for a moment shame and anger strove in her
breast. But soon bitterness returned to her heart and
insult to her tongue.

"Upon my word, children," she said, with an out-
rageously patronizing air, " I did not know you.
You were both very charming when I met you on
your adventures, and Gonsuelo was a really pretty boy
in her disguise. So it is in this holy house, between
the fat canon and little Joseph, that she has devoutly
passed her time since she left Venice? Gome, Zinga-
rella, do not trouble yourself, my child. We know each
other's secrets, and the empress, who wishes to know
everything, will know nothing about either of us."

" Even if I had a secret," replied Gonsuelo coldly,
" you have only learned it to-day ; and I knew yours
when I talked with the empress for an hour, three
days before your engagement was signed. Gorilla."

"And you spoke ill of me to her?" cried Gorilla,
flushing with anger.

1 62 CONSUELO.

" If I had told her what I knew of you, you would
not have been engaged. Since you are, I apparently
did not choose to profit by the occasion."

" And why did you not do it ? You must be very
stupid ! " returned Gorilla, with a frankness in per-
versity delightful to behold.

Consuelo and Joseph could not help smiling as they
looked at each other; Joseph's smile was full of con-
tempt for Gorilla ; that of Gonsuelo was angelic, and
raised towards heaven.

"Yes, madam," she replied with crushing sweetness,
" I am as you say, and I do very well."

" Not too well, my poor child, since I am engaged
and you are not ! " replied Gorilla, puzzled and some-
what thoughtful ; " they told me in Venice that you
had no wit, and could never manage your affairs. It
is the only true thing that Anzoleto told me about
you. But what can be done ? It is not my fault if
you are in this position. In your place I should have
said what I knew about Gorilla ; I should have pro-
claimed myself a virgin, a saint. The empress would
have believed it, — she is not hard to persuade, —
and I should have supplanted all my rivals. But you
did not do it. It is strange, and I am sorry that you
know so little how to take care of yourself."

This was too much ; contempt overcame indigna-
tion, and Gonsuelo and Joseph burst into a laugh.
Gorilla, feeling what she considered her rival's weak-
ness, began to lose the aggressive bitterness with which
she had at first armed herself, became at her ease,

CONSUELO. 163

drew up a chair to the fire, and prepared tranquilly to
continue the conversation, that she might study the
strength and weakness of her adversaries. At that
moment she found herself face to face with the canon,
whom she had not yet seen, because, guided by his
instinct of clerical prudence, he had made a sign
to the stout gardener's wife and her two children to
stand before him until he could understand what
was going on.

164 CONSUELO.

CHAPTER XII.

After the insinuation which she had made a few
moments before concerning Consuelo's relations with
the fat canon, the sight of him produced upon Gorilla
somewhat the effect of the head of Medusa. But
she felt reassured when she remembered that she
had spoken Venetian, and saluted him in German
with that mixture of boldness and embarrassment
which always characterizes the look and expres-
sion of women of loose life. The canon, ordinarily
so polite and gracious in his hospitality, did not rise
or reply to her salutation. Gorilla, who had inquired
carefully about him in Vienna, had heard that he was
excessively well bred, a great lover of music and in-
capable of austerely reproving a woman, and especially
a cantatrice. She had resolved to go to see him and
fascinate him, that she might prevent his saying any-
thing to her disadvantage. But if she had in these
matters the kind of cleverness which Gonsuelo lacked,
she had also that indifference and uncertainty in her
habits which belong to vice, to laziness and — although
there would seem to be no connection between them
— to uncleanliness. All three are united in the life of
coarse natures. Indolence of body and mind neutral-
izes the effects of perfidy, and Gorilla, who had every
instinct for intrigue, rarely had the energy to carry

CONSUELO, 165

one through. She had therefore postponed her visit
to the canon from day to day, and when she found
him so cold and severe, she began to be visibly dis- '
concerted.

Then, endeavoring to recover her position by a bold
stroke, she said to Consuelo, who was still holding
Angele in her arms, —

" Well, why do you not let me kiss my daughter,
and lay her at the canon's feet, to " —

" Dame Gorilla," said the canon, in the same dry
and coldly sarcastic tone in which he had formerly
said "Dame Bridget," "do me the pleasure to let
that child alone."

Then, speaking in Italian with great elegance, though
somewhat too slowly, he went on as follows, without
removing his cap from his head : —

" I have been listening to you for a quarter of an
hour, and, although I am not very familiar with your
patois, I have understood enough to be able to assure
you that you are altogether the most brazen hussy I
have ever met. Still, I believe that you are more
stupid than spiteful, and more cowardly than danger-
ous. You have no understanding of what is beautiful,
and it would be lost time to try to make you compre-
hend it. I have only one thing to say to you : this
young girl, this virgin, this saint, as you just called her in
mockery, — you contaminate her by speaking to her ;
therefore, speak to her no more. As for this child,
which was born of you, you blight it by touching it ;
therefore, do not touch it. A child is a sacred being ;

1 66 CONSUELO.

Consuelo told me so, and I understand it. It is by
the intercession and persuasion of this same Consuelo
that I ventured to take charge of your daughter, with-
out fearing lest the perverse instincts which she may
inherit from you should some day make me repent it.
We said to ourselves that divine goodness gives to
every creature the power of knowing and practising
the right, and we have resolved to teach her what is
good, and to make it pleasant and easy for her. With
you, it would be altogether otherwise. You will there-
fore, from to-day, cease to consider this child as your
own. You abandoned it ; you yielded it up and gave
it, and it no longer belongs to you. You left a sum
of money to pay us for its education " —

He made a sign to the gardener's wife, who, at his
direction, had a few moments before taken from the
wardrobe a sealed bag, the same which Gorilla had
sent to the canon with her child, and which had not
been opened. He took it and threw it at Gorilla's
feet, adding, —

" We have no use for it, and we do not want it.
Now, I beg you to go out of my house and never to
set foot in it again, upon any pretext whatever. Upon
these conditions, and upon the further one that you
never open your mouth in regard to the circumstances
which have compelled us to have dealings with you,
we promise absolute silence upon all that concerns
you. But if you do otherwise, I warn you that I have
more means than you think of conveying the truth to
her majesty, and that you may see your theatrical

CONSUELO. 167

crown and the applause of your admirers suddenly
changed to a residence of several years in a convent
for fallen women."

Having said this, the canon rose, made a sign to
the nurse to take the child, and to Consuelo to with-
draw with Joseph to the end of the room. Then he
pointed to the door, and Gorilla, terrified, pale and
trembling, went out convulsively and as if lost, without
knowing where she went and without comprehending
what was going on about her.

The canon had been filled, during this sort of im-
precation, with an honest indignation which, little by
little, made him strangely imposing. Consuelo and
Joseph had never seen him thus. The habit of au-
thority which a priest never loses, and also the attitude
of royal command which belongs to the blood, and
which betrayed at that moment the bastard of Augus-
tus II., endowed the canon with an irresistible majesty.
Gorilla, to whom no man had ever spoken thus in the
austere calmness of truth, felt more terrified than she
had ever been by her furious lovers in their outbursts
of revenge and contempt. An Italian and supersti-
tious, she was really afraid of this churchman and his
anathema, and she fled appalled through the garden
while the canon, exhausted by this effort so contrary
to his habits of benevolence and kindliness, fell back
upon his chair, pale and almost fainting.

While she hastened to his help, Gonsuelo involun-
tarily watched the agitated and unsteady course of
poor Gorilla. She saw her stumble at the end of an

1 68 CONSUELO.

alley and fall upon the grass, either because she had
made a false step in her distress, or because she had
not the strength to support herself. Carried away by
her kind heart, and thinking the lesson more cruel
than she would have had the courage to make it, she
left the canon to Joseph's care, and hastened to her
rival, who had a violent nervous attack. Not being
able to quiet her, and not daring to take her back to
the priory, she could only keep her from rolling upon
the ground, and from wounding her hands with the
gravel.

Gorilla was like one mad for a few moments, but
when she recognized the person who was caring for
her and endeavoring to console her, she grew calm
and became of a livid pallor. Her drawn lips main-
tained a painful silence, and her glassy eyes remained
fixed upon the ground. She allowed herself, however,
to be led to her carriage, which was waiting at the gate,
and got in, assisted by her rival, without saying a word.
"Do you feel very badly? " said Consuelo, fright-
ened by the change in her face. " Let me go with
you a httle way; I will come back on foot."

Gorilla's only reply was to push her away roughly,
and then she looked at her a moment with an impene-
trable expression. Suddenly, bursting into tears, she
hid her face in one hand, while with the other she
motioned to her coachman to go on, and lowered the
blind of the carriage between herself and her generous
enemy.

The next day, at the hour of the last rehearsal of

CONSUELO, 169

"Antigone," Consuelo was at her post, waiting for
Gorilla, who sent her servant to say that she would
arrive in half an hour. Caffariello wished her at the
devil, said that he was not at the orders of such a
creature, and that he would not wait for her, and pre-
tended to leave. Madame Tesi, pale and ill, had
wished to be present at the rehearsal to amuse herself
at the expense of Gorilla ; they had brought a sofa for
her, and reclining upon it behind that first wing, which
is painted like a curtain, and called, in stage language,
the " harlequin's mantle," she calmed her friend and
persisted in waiting for Gorilla, thinking that it was
from fear of her that she hesitated to appear.

At last Gorilla arrived, more pale and languishing
than Madame Tesi herself, who began to recover her
color and strength when she saw her successor in this
condition. Instead of taking off her cloak and hat
with the sweeping gestures which she usually em-
ployed, she sank upon a gilded throne at the back of
the stage, and said to Holzbauer in a faint voice, —

" I assure you, director, that I am horribly ill, that
i have no voice, that I have passed a dreadful night,
and that for all these reasons it is impossible for me
to rehearse to-day and sing to-morrow unless I resume
the role of Ismene, and give that of Berenice to some
one else."

"What are you thinking of, madam?" cried Holz-
bauer thunderstruck. " Do you wish to be excused on
the eve of a performance, and when the court has fixed
the hour? It is impossible ; I cannot consent to it/'

i7o CONSUELO.

"You will have to consent to it," she replied, re-
suming her natural voice, which was not sweet. " I
am engaged for the second roles, and nothing in my
contract compels me to sing the first. It was a
desire to be obliging which induced me to accept
them when Signora Tesi became indisposed, that the
pleasure of the court might not be interrupted. Now
I am too ill to keep my promise, and you cannot
make me change my resolution."

" My dear friend, they will make you sing by
order, ^^ said Caffariello, " and you will sing badly, for
which we were prepared. It is a little misfortune to
add to all those which you have undergone in your
life through your own fault, but it is too late to repent
of it. You should have reflected a little sooner. You
placed too great reliance on your strength. You will
make a fiasco, but that is of no consequence to the
rest of us. I will sing so that they will forget that
the role of Berenice exists. Porporina, too, in her
little role of Ismene, will indemnify the public, and
everybody will be satisfied except you. It will be
a lesson by which you will or will not profit another
time."

'' You are greatly mistaken in regard to my motives
for refusing," replied Gorilla boldly. " If I were not
ill, I should perhaps sing the part as well as another ;
but as I cannot sing it, there is some one here who
will sing it better than it has yet been sung in Vienna,
and that not later than to-morrow. Thus the per-
formance will not be delayed, and I shall have the

CONSUELO. 171

pleasure of resuming my part of Ismene, which does
not tire me.'*

" Then you expect," said Holzbauer with surprise,
" that Madame Tesi will be well enough to sing to-
morrow ? "

" I know very well that Madame Tesi will not be
able to sing for a long while," replied Gorilla in a loud
voice, so that from the throne on which she was
seated she could be heard by Tesi, lying on her sofa a
dozen steps from her ; " see how changed she is !
Her face is frightful ! But I tell you that you have a
perfect Berenice, incomparable, superior to us all ;
and here she is," she added, rising, and taking Con-
suelo by the hand to lead her into the anxious and
excited group which had formed about her.

" I? " cried Consuelo, who thought she was dream-
ing.

" You ! " cried Gorilla, pushing her upon the throne
with a convulsive gesture. " Now you are queen,
Porporina ; now you are in the first rank ; it is I who
placed you there ; I owed it to you. Do not forget
that."

In his distress, Holzbauer, on the verge of failing
in his duty, and of being, perhaps, obliged to resign,
could not refuse this unexpected assistance. He had
seen clearly enough, from the way in which Gonsuelo
sang Ismene, that she could sing Berenice admirably.
In spite of his dislike for her and for Porpora, he
could have but one fear at that moment, and this was
that she would not accept the role.

172 CONSUELO.

She did indeed excuse herself from it very seri-
ously; and cordially pressing Gorilla's hands, she
begged her, in a low voice, not to make her a sacri-
fice which gave her so little pride, while in the eyes of
her rival it was the most terrible of expiations and
the most frightful humiliation she could impose upon
herself. Gorilla remained unshaken in her resolution.
Madame Tesi, frightened at the serious rivalry which
threatened her, would have been glad to try her voice
and resume her part, though she died afterwards, for
she was seriously ill ; but she did not dare. It was not
permissible at the court theatre to have those caprices
to which the good-natured sovereign of our days, the
public, has learned to submit so patiently. The court
was awaiting something new in the role of Berenice ;
it had been announced, and the empress expected it.

" Gome, make up your mind," said Gaffariello.
" This is the first sensible thing Gorilla has ever done
in her life ; let us take advantage of it.'*

" But I do not know the part. I have not studied
it, and I cannot learn it by to-morrow."

" You have heard it, therefore you know it, and you
will sing it to-morrow," cried Porpora, finally, in a
voice of thunder. '* Gome, make no faces, and stop
this discussion. We have wasted more than an hour
in chattering. Director, let the violins begin, and
you, Berenice, go on tlie stage. No book ! Drop
that book ! When you have rehearsed three times
you ought to know all the parts by heart. I tell you
that you know it ! "

CONSUELO. 173

" No, tutto, O Berenice," sang Gorilla, become
Ismene again, '' Tu non apri il tuo cor."

"And now," thought this woman, who judged
Consuelo's pride by her own, " all that she knows of
my adventures will indeed seem to her but a trifle."

Consuelo, whose prodigious memory and triumphant
facility Porpora well knew, did in fact sing the part,
words and music, without the least hesitation.
Madame Tesi was so struck by her acting and singing
that she felt much worse, and was carried home after
the rehearsal of the first act. The next day Consuelo
had to prepare her dress, arrange the " points " of her
role and go over it all carefully before five o'clock in
the afternoon. Her success was so complete that the
empress said as she went out, " That is an admirable
young girl. I must absolutely arrange a marriage for
her ; I will think about it."

The next day they began the rehearsal of Metastasio's
"Zenobia," set to music by Predieri. Gorilla still in-
sisted on yielding the principal role to Gonsuelo.
Madame Holzbauer sang the second, and as she was a
better musician than Gorilla, this opera was much
more carefully studied than the other. Metastasio was
delighted to see his poetry, neglected and forgotten
during the war, recover favor and create a sensation
at Vienna. He almost ceased to think of his ills,
and, urged by the kindness of Maria Theresa, and
called upon by the duties of his office to write new
lyric dramas, he was preparing himself, by reading
Greek tragedies and Latin classics, to produce one of

174 CONSUELO.

those masterpieces which the ItaUans of Vienna and
the Germans of Italy ranked coolly above the trage-
dies of Corneille, Racine, Shakespeare, Calderon, —
above everything, in a word.

It is not in the middle of this story, already so long
and so loaded with details, that we will trespass upon
the reader's patience, long since worn out, perhaps, to
tell what we think of Metastasio's genius. It makes
little difference to him. We will, therefore, only re-
peat to him what Consuelo whispered about it to
Joseph.

" My poor Beppo, you cannot imagine the difficulty
which I have in playing those roles which are con-
sidered so sublime and so pathetic. It is true that
the words are well arranged, and that they come
trippingly from the tongue when they are sung; but
when one thinks of the character in whose mouth they
are put, one does not know which way to look, I will
not say for the emotion, but for the gravity to pro-
nounce them. What a strange conventionality it is
which arranges antiquity after the fashion of our own
time, and brings upon the stage intrigues, passions
and morals which would be well placed, perhaps, in
the memoirs of the Margravine of Baireuth, Baron von
Trenck or the Princess of Culmbach, but which are
absurd nonsense on the part of Rhadamistus, Berenice
or Arsinoe. When I was convalescent at the Castle
of the Giants, Count Albert often read to me to make
me sleepy ; but I never went to sleep, and listened with
all my cars. He read me the tragedies of Sophocles,

CONSUELO, 175

^schylus or Euripides, and he read them in Spanish,
slowly, but clearly and without hesitation, although it
was a Greek text that he had before his eyes. He
was so familiar with ancient and modern languages
that one would have said that he was reading an ad-
mirably written translation. He endeavored to make
it so faithful, he said, that I might understand, in the
scrupulous exactness of his interpretation, the genius
of the Greeks in all its simplicity. What grandeur
and imagery ! What poetry and sobriety ! What lofty
figures, pure and strong characters, powerful situations,
deep and real sorrows, and terrible and harrowing
pictures he showed me ! Still weak, and with my
imagination still under the influence of the violent
emotions which had caused my illness, I was so over-
come by what I heard that I fancied myself, as I
listened to him, Antigone, Clytemnestra, Medea or
Electra, and imagined that I was myself playing these
bloody and mournful dramas, not upon a stage before
the glare of the footlights, but in frightful wastes, at
the entrance to yawning caverns, amid the columns
of ancient porticos or beside cold hearthstones, where
they wept for the dead and conspired against the
living. I heard the pitiful chorus of the Trojan
women and of the Dardanian captives. The
Eumenides danced around me, — to what strange
rhythms and infernal modulations ! I cannot think of
it without a recollection of pleasure and terror which
still makes me shudder. Never shall I have upon
the stage, in the realization of my dreams, the same

176 CONSUELO.

emotions and the same power which I then felt
stirring in my heart and brain. It was then that I felt
myself a tragedian for the first time, and that I con-
ceived types for which no artist gave me the model.
It was then that I understood the drama, the tragic
effect, the poetry of the stage ; and as Albert read, I
improvised in my mind a melody in which I fancied
myself following and singing all that I heard. I some-
times surprised myself in the attitude and with the
expression of the characters who were speaking
through him, and he would often stop, frightened,
thinking he saw Andromache or Ariadne appear before
him. Oh, I learned and understood more in a month
of that reading than in a whole lifetime employed in
repeating Metastasio's dramas ! and if the composers
had not endowed the music with the sentiment and
truthfulness in which the action is lacking, I believe
that I should sink beneath the disgust which I feel in
making the Grand Duchess Zenobia converse with the
Landgravine Egle, and in hearing Field-marshal
Rhadamistus quarrel with Count Zopyrus. Oh, all
that is false, Beppo, terribly false ! false as our cos-
tumes, the blond periwig of Cafiariello Tiridates, or
the pompadour undress of Madame Holzbauer in an
Armenian pastoral ; false as the pink-silk calves of
Prince Demetrius, or that scenery, which resembles
Asia as much as Abbe Metastasio is like old Homer.'*
" What you say to me,'* replied Haydn, " explains
to me why, when I consider the necessity of writing
operas for the theatre, if I ever attain to that, I am

CONSUELO. 177

conscious of more hope and inspiration when I think
of composing oratorios. In these, where the puerile
artifices of the stage are not ahvays giving the he to
the truth of the sentiment, in this symphonic setting,
where all is music, where soul speaks to soul through the
ear and not the eye, it seems to me that a composer
can develop all his inspiration, and carry the imagina-
tions of his hearers into a truly elevated sphere."

As they talked in this way, Consuelo and Joseph
were walking up and down beside a great back scene
which was to represent the river Araxes that evening,
and which, in the half light of the theatre, was only an
enormous strip of indigo spreading among great blots
of ochre, intended to represent the Caucasus moun-
tains. These back scenes, ready for the performance,
are placed one behind the other, in such a way as to
be lifted by rolling round a cylinder. In the spaces
between them the actors walk about during the per-
formance, and the supernumeraries doze or exchange
pinches of snuff, seated or lying in the dust, under the
drops of oil which fall heavily from the rickety lamps.
During the day the actors walk up and down these
narrow, dark alleys, repeating their parts or talking
about their affairs, and sometimes listening to the little
confidences or the profound machinations of others
talking close to them without seeing them, behind an
arm of the sea or a public place.

Fortunately, Metastasio was not on the other side
of the Araxes while the inexperienced Consuelo was
pouring out her artistic indignation to Haydn. The

178 CONSUELO.

rehearsal began. It was the second of "Zenobia,"
and it went so well that the musicians of the orchestra
applauded, as their custom is, by beating their bows
upon the backs of their fiddles. Prederi's music was
charming, and Porpora conducted it with more enthu-
siasm than he had been able to bring to that of Hasse.
The part of Tiridates was one of Caffariello's triumphs,
and he was far from complaining because, while they
dressed him like a ferocious Parthian warrior, they
made him coo Hke Celadon and speak like Clitandre.
Consuelo, if she thought her role false and unnatural
in the mouth of a heroine of antiquity, at least found
in it a woman's character agreeably drawn. It even
presented some likeness to the frame of mind in which
she had been between Albert and Anzoleto ; and,
altogether forgetting the "local color," as we call it
now-a-days, to think only of the human sentiments, she
discovered that she was sublime in the air, the words
of which had so often been in her heart : —

" Voi leggete in ogni core;
Voi sapete, o giusti Dei,
Se son puri i voti miei,
Se innocente e la pieta."

At that moment she had the consciousness of a true
emotion and a deserved triumph. She did not need
a look from Caffariello, who was not restrained that
day by the presence of Madame Tesi, and who sin-
cerely admired her, to confirm what she already felt, —
the certainty of producing an irresistible effect upon

CONSUELO, 179

any public and under any possible circumstances, with
this splendid air. She therefore felt at once reconciled
to her role, the opera, her comrades, herself, — to the
stage, in a word ; and in spite of all the imprecations
against her calling which she had uttered an hour be-
fore, she could not defend herself against one of those
inward thrills, so profound, sudden and powerful that
it is impossible for any one who is not an artist in some
way to understand what ages of labor, disappointment
and suffering they can repay in a moment.

l8o CONSUELO.

CHAPTER XIII.

As Porpora's pupil and still half his servant, Haydn,
who was eager to hear music and to study, even from
a material point of view, the construction of operas,
obtained leave to go behind the scenes when Consuelo
sang. He had noticed for a couple of days that Por-
pora, who had at first been somewhat ill-disposed to
admit him to the stage of the theatre, gave his permis-
sion with an air of good-humor, even before he ven-
tured to ask. This was because a new idea had come
into the professor's head. Maria Theresa, in conver-
sation with the Venetian ambassador, had reverted to
her fixed idea of " matrimoniomania," as Consuelo
called it. She had told him that she would be glad to
see this great singer take up her residence at Vienna
by marrying the young musician, her master's pupil.
She had inquired about Haydn from the ambassador
himself, who gave an excellent report of him, saying
that he showed great musical ability, and was above all
a good Catholic ; and her majesty had therefore urged
him to arrange this marriage, promising to make suit-
able provision for the young couple. The idea had
pleased Signor Corner, who was sincerely attached to
Haydn, and already gave him an allowance of seventy-
two francs a month, to enable him to continue his
studies freely. He had spoken enthusiastically of it

CONSUELO, l8l

to Porpora, who, after much hesitation and resistance
(he would have preferred his pupil to live without love
or marriage), had allowed himself to be persuaded,
fearing that she might persist in her idea of withdraw-
ing from the stage to marry a gentleman. To deal a
heavy blow, the ambassador had shown him Haydn's
compositions, and had told him that the serenade for
three instruments, with which he had been so much
pleased, was written by Beppo. Porpora had admitted
that it showed the germ of a great talent, that he might
give it the right direction and teach him how to write
for the voice ; finally, that the situation of a singer
married to a composer might be a very advantageous
one. The extrcm.e youth of the couple and their
slender resources would compel Haydn to work with-
out any other hope than ambition, and Consuelo would
also be tied to the stage. The master yielded. He
had no more received a reply from Reisenburg than
Consuelo. This silence caused him to fear some re-
sistance to his views, or some rash act on the part of
the young count. " If I could marry Consuelo to
another," he thought, "or even betroth her, I should
have nothing more to fear in that direction."

The difficulty was to bring Consuelo to this resolu-
tion. To urge her to it would inspire her with the
idea of resisting. With his Neapolitan acuteness, he
said to himself that the force of events must bring
about a change in the young girl's mind. She felt a
friendship for Beppo, and Beppo, although he had
overcome the love in his heart, showed so much zeal,

1 82 CONSUELO.

admiration and devotion towards her that Porpora
could readily imagine him violently enamoured of her.
He thought that by not putting any restraint on his
relations with her, he would afford him an opportunity
to win her favor; that by enlightening him at the
proper time upon the empress's designs and his own
apjDroval, he would inspire him with eloquence and
persuasiveness. He ceased altogether to abuse and
disparage him and gave free scope to their brotherly
affection, flattering himself that matters would progress
more rapidly than if he openly interfered.

Porpora, by not sufficiently doubting his success,
committed a great fault. He exposed Consuelo's
reputation to slander, for Joseph only needed to be
seen with her twice in succession behind the scenes
for all the theatrical tribe to proclaim her liaison with
that young man, and poor Consuelo, confiding and
without foresight, like all upright and chaste souls,
never anticipated the danger or guarded against it.
Consequently, from the time of this rehearsal of
"Zenobia," all eyes were opened and all tongues let
loose. In every wing, behind every scene, between
actors, chorus singers and employes of all sorts, there
were malicious and playful remarks, severe or good-
natured, concerning the scandal of this budding in-
trigue or the frankness of this happy union.

Consuelo, absorbed by her part and her artistic
emotion, neither saw, heard nor suspected anything.
Joseph, dreaming and occupied by the opera which
they were singing and by that which he was meditat-

CONSUELO. 183

ing in his musical soul, did indeed hear a few stray
words, but without understanding them, so far was he
from such vain hopes. When he overheard an
equivocal remark or a sarcastic observation as he
walked about, he would raise his head, look around
him, seek for the object of this satire, and not finding
him, as he was entirely indifferent to conversation of
this sort, he would return to his meditation.

Between the acts of the opera, comic interludes
were often given, and that day they were rehearsing
the " Impressario delle Canarie," a collection of very
bright and droll little scenes by Metastasio. Gorilla,
who filled the role of an exacting, imperious and
capricious prima donna, was strikingly natural, and the
success which she usually had in this trifle consoled
her a little for the sacrifice of her great role of
Zenobia. While they were rehearsing the last scene
of the interlude, Consuelo, somewhat overcome by the
emotion of her part, went behind the back scene,
between the " terrible valley full of mountains and
precipices " which formed the first scene, and that
good river Araxes, bordered by " most agreeable
mountains," which was to appear at the third scene,
to rest the eyes of the " sensitive " spectator. She
was walking rather swiftly to and fro when Joseph
brought her fan which she had left upon the prompter's
box, and which she was glad to have. The instinct
of his heart and the intentional preoccupation of
Porpora mechanically drew Joseph towards his friend ;
the habit of trustfulness and the need of confiding in

184 CONSUELO.

him always caused Consuelo to receive him joyfully.
This double impulse of a sympathy at which the
angels in heaven would not have blushed, fate had re-
solved to make the signal and the cause of strange
misfortunes. We know very well that the readers of
our novels, who are always eager for excitement, wish
for nothing but blood and thunder ; but we must ask
them to have a little patience.

"Well, my friend," said Joseph, coming smiling up
to Consuelo and holding out his hand, " it seems to
me that you are not so dissatisfied with the drama of
our illustrious abbe, and that you found in your
prayer aria an open window by which the demon of
genius which possesses you could wing his flight for
once."

"Then you think I sang it well? "
" Do you not see that my eyes are red ? "
" Ah, yes ! you have been crying. That is good ;
so much the better ! I am very glad that I made you
cry."

"As if it were the first time ! But you are be-
coming such an artist as Porpora wishes you to be,
my good Consuelo. The fever of success is lighted
in you. When you sang in the paths of the Boeh-
merwald you saw me weeping and you wept yourself,
touched by the beauty of your own singing. Now it
is another thing ; you laugh with pleasure and you
thrill with pride when you see the tears you cause to
flow. Come, courage, my Consuelo ! Now you are
a prima donna in all the strength of the word."

CONSUELO. 185

" Do not say that, my friend. I shall never be Hke
her," and she pointed to Gorilla, who was singing on
the stage at the other side of the back scene.

" Do not misunderstand me," replied Joseph;"!
mean that the god of inspiration has conquered you.
In vain have your cold reason, your austere philosophy
and the memory of Reisenburg striven against the
spirit of the Pythoness. At last it has filled you and
is overflowing. Confess that you are choking with
pleasure ; I can feel your arm trembling in my own,
your face is animated, and I have never seen you with
the look which you have now. No, you were not
more agitated or inspired when Count Albert read you
the Greek tragedies."

" Ah, how you pain me ! " cried Gonsuclo, turning
suddenly pale, and withdrawing her arm from that of
Joseph. "Why do you pronounce that name here?
It is a sacred name, which ought not to be heard
in this temple of folly. It is a terrible name, which,
like a peal of thunder, drives back into niglit all
the illusions and all the phantoms of my golden
dreams."

" Well, Gonsuelo, do you wish me to tell you the
truth?" resumed Haydn, after a moment's silence;
" you can never make up your mind to marry that
man."

" Hush, hush, I promised ! "

" Well, if you keep your promise you will never be
happy with him. You, leave the theatre and give up
an artist's career ? It is too late by an hour. You

1 86 CONSUELO,

have tasted a joy the memory of which would consti-
tute the torment of your whole Hfe."

'* You frighten me, Beppo ! Why do you say such
things to me to-day? "

" I do not know ; I say them in spite of myself.
Your fever has passed into my brain, and it seems to
me that when we return home I shall write something
sublime. It will be some platitude ; but never mind,
I am full of genius for the moment."

" How gay and tranquil you are ! I, in the midst
of this fever of joy and pride of which you speak, feel
a strange pain, and wish to laugh and cry at the same
time."

** You are suffering, I am sure of that ; you must
suffer. At the moment when you feel your power
revealing itself, a painful thought seizes and chills
you " —

" Yes, it is true ; what does that mean? "

" It means that you are an artist, and that you
have imposed upon yourself the cruel duty, abomina-
ble to yourself and to God, of renouncing art."

" Yesterday it did not seem so, but to-day it does.
My nerves are out of order, and I see that this ex-
citement is terrible and hurtful. I had always desired
its allurement and power. I had always gone upon
the stage with calmness, with conscientious and
modest attention. Now I can no longer control
myself, and if I had to appear upon the boards
now, it seems to me that I should commit sublime
follies or wretched extravagances. The reins of my

CONSUELO. 187

will have slipped from my grasp ; I hope that it will
not be so to-morrow, for this emotion partakes of the
nature of both delirium and agony.'*

" Poor friend ! I fear that it will always be so
henceforth, or rather, I hope it ; for you will be
really great only under the influence of this emotion.
I have heard it said by all the musicians and actors
to whom I have spoken, that without this delirium
or this emotion, they could accomplish nothing ; and
that instead of growing calmer with age, they always
become more impressionable at each embrace of
their demon.''

" It is a great mystery," said Consuelo with a sigh.
" It does not seem to me that vanity, jealousy of
others, or a base love of triumph can have taken
possession of me so suddenly, and changed my whole
nature in a night. No ! I assure you that when I
sang this prayer of Zenobia and this duet with Tiri-
dates, in which Caflariello's vigor and passion carried
me along like a whirlwind, I thought neither of the
public, my rivals nor myself. I was Zenobia. I
thought of the nnmortal gods of Olympus with a
wholly Christian ardor, and I burned with such a love
for that good Caffariello that after the ritornello I
could not look at him without laughing. All this is
strange, and I am beginning to believe that, as the
dramatic act is a perpetual falsehood, God punishes
us by inflicting on us the madness of believing in it
ourselves, and of regarding seriously what we do to
produce an illusion upon others. No ! Man may

l88 CONSUELO.

not abuse all the passions and emotions of real life
to make a sport of them. God would have us keep
our souls pure and healthy for true affections and
useful deeds, and when we thwart his wishes he pun-
ishes us and makes us mad."

" God ! The will of God ! There lies the mystery,
Consuelo. Who can fathom God's designs for us?
Would he give us, from the very cradle, these in-
stincts, these desires for a certain art which we can
never stifle, if he did not mean us to use them when
we are called upon to do so ? Why, as a child, did I
not care for the sports of my little comrades ? Why,
as soon as I was my own master, did I labor at music
with a perseverance which nothing could discourage
and an assiduity which would have killed any other
child of my age ? Rest wearied me, labor gave me
life. It was so with you, Consuelo. You have told
me so a hundred times, and when one of us was tell-
ing of his life, the other seemed to be hearing the
story of his own. No, the hand of God is in every-
thing, and every faculty, every inclination, is his work,
even though we do not know its end. You were
born an artist, therefore you must be one ; and who-
ever hinders you will kill you or give you a life worse
than the tomb."

"Ah, Beppo," cried Consuelo, appalled and almost
distracted, " I know what you would do, if you were
really my friend ! "

"What, dear Consuelo? Does not my life belong
to you?"

CONSUELO, 189

" You would kill me to-morrow as soon as the cur-
tain falls, after I have been a real artist, really in-
spired, for the first and the last time in my life."

" Ah ! '^ said Joseph, with mournful gayety, " I
would rather kill Count Albert or myself."

At this moment Consuelo raised her eyes to the
opening between the scenes just opposite her, and
glanced at it in a melancholy revery. The stage of a
great theatre, seen by daylight, is something so different
to what it appears lighted up and from the auditorium,
that it is impossible to form an idea of it unless one
has seen it. Nothing could be more dreary, nothing
more sombre and frightful, than this interior, dark,
deserted and silent. If a human figure were to ap-
pear distinctly in the boxes, closed like tombs, it
would seem a spectre, and the boldest actor would
recoil from it frightened. The faint, wan light which
comes from several skylights placed in the roof at the
back of the stage, falls slantingly over scaffoldings,
grayish rags and dusty boards. On the stage, the eye,
deprived of the advantage of perspective, is aston-
ished at the narrow space in which so many persons
and passions must act, simulating majestic move-
ments, imposing masses, uncontrollable outbursts,
which will seem such to the spectators, and which
are studied and measured to an inch, that they
may not become confused and entangled, or break
against the scenery. But if the stage seems small
and mean, the height of the structure intended to
shelter so much scenery and machinery appears im-

190 CONSUELO,

mense, freed from all those canvasses painted like
clouds, cornices or verdant branches which cut it off
at a certain height to the eye of the spectator. In its
real disproportion, this elevation has an austere look ;
and if one fancies himself in a cell when he looks at
the stage, when he looks at the roof he fancies him-
self in a gothic church, but an unfinished or a ruined
one, for everything in it is dim, shapeless, fantastic and
incoherent. Ladders hanging without symmetry, ac-
cording to the needs of the machinist, cut off as if
accidentally, and leading without apparent motive to
other ladders which cannot be distinguished in the
confusion of these colorless details ; piles of boards,
oddly carved , scenery seen from behind, the out-
line of which conveys no idea to the mind ; ropes
intertwined like hieroglyphs ; nameless rubbish, pul-
leys and wheels, which seem prepared for an unknown
torture, — all this resembles those dreams which we
make before awaking, and in which we see incompre-
hensible things, while making vain efforts to know
where we are. All is vague, uncertain and ready to
fall apart. One sees a man working tranquilly on
these beams who seems borne by cobwebs ; he may
appear a sailor, climbing the rigging of a vessel, and,
just as readily, a gigantic rat gnawing worm-eaten
timbers. One hears words which come from he
knows not where. They are pronounced ninety feet
above him, and the strange sonority of the echoes
concealed in all the corners of this fantastic dome
brings them to his ear, distinct or confused, as he

CONSUELO. 191

makes a step forward or to one side, which changes
the acoustic effect. A frightful noise shakes the scaf-
folding, and dies away in prolonged rumblings. Is
the roof falling in? Has one of those frail galleries
given way, carrying the poor workmen in its ruins ?
No, it is a fireman sneezing or a cat chasing a mouse
amid the precipices of this hanging labyrinth. Be-
fore you are accustomed to all these sights and sounds,
you are afraid ; you do not know what the matter is,
or against what unexpected apparitions you must
summon up your courage. You understand nothing,
and that which one cannot distinguish by sight or
thought, that which is uncertain and unknown, always
alarms the senses. The most reasonable thing which
one can fancy when he enters such a chaos for the
first time is that he is about to be present at some mad
sabbath in the laboratory of a mysterious alchemy.^

1 And yet, as everything- lias a beauty for the eye which knows how
to see, this theatrical limbo has one which strikes the imagination far
more than all the mock glories of the lighted and ordered stage at the
hour of performance. I have often asked myself in what this beauty
consisted, and how it would be possible to describe it, if I wished to
convey the secret of it to the soul of another. ** Wliat! " you will say,
** can external objects, without color, form, order or light, put on an
aspect which speaks to the eyes and the imagination?" A painter
only could reply, •* Yes, I understand." He would remember Rem-
brandt's "Philosopher in Meditation;" that great room lost in the
shadows, those endless stairways which turn one knows not how;
those vague lights which shine and disappear, one knows not why, in
different parts of the picture; this wliole scene, uncertain yet clear at
the same time; this powerful color bestowed upon a subject, which after
all is painted only in light and dark brown; this magic of the chiaro-
oscuro; this disposition of light thrown adroitly upon the most insignifi-
cant objects — a chair, a jug, a copper vessel, — and how, suddenly, these
objects, which did not deserve to be looked at, still less painted, be-
come so inLcrcstinif, so beautiful in iheir way, that one cannot turn his

192 CONSUELO.

Consuelo therefore allowed her gaze to wander
absently over this singular edifice, and the poetry of
this disorder appeared to her for the first time. At
each extremity of the passage formed by the two
back scenes opened a black and deep recess, through
which figures passed from time to time like shadows.
Suddenly she saw one of these figures stop as if to
wait for her, and she thought she saw a gesture call-
ing her.

" Is it Porpora? " she asked Joseph.

" No," said he ; " but it is no doubt some one
come to tell you that they are ready to rehearse the
third act."

Consuelo quickened her steps, and went towards
this person, whose features she could not distinguish,
because he had retreated to the wall ; but when she

eyes away from them. They have received life, they exist and are
worthy to exist, because the artist has touched them with his wand,
because he has fixed upon them a bit of sunlight, because he has been
able to spread between himself and them a transparent, mysterious
veil, the air which we see and breathe, and into which we fancy
Ave enter when we penetrate in imagination into the depths of his
canvas. Weil, if we find one of his pictures in real nature, though
it be composed of even meaner objects yet — of broken boards, faded
rags or a smoked-stained wall ; if a faint light dimly throws its enchant-
ment over it, if chiaro-oscuro exercises that essential art which is in
effect, in position, in the harmony of all things which exist, without
man's needing to put it there, man can find it, and enjoys it, admires
it and takes pleasure in it as a conquest which lie has just made.

It is almost impossible to explain in words these mysteries which the
stroke of a great master's pencil translates intelligibly to every eye.
When we see the interiors of Rembrandt, of Teniers, of Gerard Douw,
the coarsest eye will recollect the reality which, nevertheless, had
never struck him as poetic. To see this reality poetically, and to
make a Rembrandt picture of it in the mind, one needs only to be en-
dowed with a feeling for the picturesque which belongs to many organ-

CONSUELO. 193

was but a few paces from him, and about to speak
to him, he slipped quickly behind the scenes, and
reached the back of the stage.

"That person seems to have been watching us,"
said Joseph.

*'And to be running away from us," added Con-
suelo, struck by the haste with which the mysterious
individual had avoided her look. " I do not know
why, but he frightens me."

She returned to the stage, and rehearsed the last
act, towards the end of which she again felt the
enthusiasm which had transported her. When she
wished to put on her cloak and go home, she had to
look for it, dazzled by a sudden brightness ; they had
just opened a skylight above her head, and a ray of
the sun fell obliquely before her. The contrast of this

izalions. But to describe this picture and to make it pass by words
into the mind of another would require such ingenuity that in trying it
I declare that I am yielding- to an impulse without any hope of success.
The genius gifted with this power, and who expresses it in verse (an in-
finitely more prodigious feat), has not always succeeded. And yet I
doubt whether in our age any literary artist can approach the results
which he has obtained in this style. Read a poem entitled •• Puits de
I'Inde; " it will be a masterpiece or an orgy of the imagination as your
faculties are or are not in sympathy with the poet. As for me, I admit
that it grated horribly upon me when I read it. I could not approve
this disorder and intemperance of description. Then when I had
closed the book, I could sec nothing in my brain but these pits, subter-
ranean passages, stairways and chasms through which the poet had
led me. I saw them in my dreams, I saw them awake. 1 could not
get out of them. I was buried alive in them. I was conquered, and 1
did not wish to read this poem again, for fear of finding that so great
a painter and so great a poet was not a faultless writer. But for a
long time 1 remembered the last eight lines, which for all ages and for
all tastes will be a profound, sublime and irreproachable achievement,
whether heard by the heart, the ear or the mind.

194 CONSUELO.

brilliant light with the darkness of surrounding ob-
jects half blinded her for a moment, and she made
two or three steps at random, when suddenly she saw
beside her the same person in the black cloak who
had puzzled her before. She saw him indistinctly,
but she seemed to recognize him. She uttered a cry
and sprang towards him, but he had already disap-
peared, and she searched for him with her eyes
in vain.

"What is the matter?" said Joseph, handing her
her cloak ; " did you run against a scene ? Are you
hurt?'*

" No," she said, " but I saw Count Albert."

" Count Albert here ! Are you sure ? Is it pos-
sible?"

** It is possible ; it is certain," said Consuelo, drawing
him away.

She began to look behind the scenes, running about
and going into every corner. Joseph assisted her in this
search, though convinced that she was mistaken, while
Porpora called her impatiently to take her home.
Consuelo could find no one who in the least reminded
her of Albert ; and when, obliged to go out with her
master, she saw every one pass who had been upon
the stage at the same time with her, she observed
several cloaks very like that which had struck her.

** Never mind," she murmured to Joseph, who
pointed this out to her, " I saw him ; he was there ! "

" It was a hallucination,'' replied Joseph. " If it
had really been Count Albert, he would have spoken

CONSUELO. 195

to you, and you say that twice he fled at your ap-
proach."

" I do not say that it was really he, as you say,
Joseph. I believe now that it was a vision. Some
misfortune must have happened to him. Oh, I
should like to go away at once, to fly to Bohemia ! I
am sure that he is in danger, that he is waiting for
me and calling me ! "

"I see that, among other ill turns he has done
you, he has infected you with his madness, my poor
Consuelo. The excitement produced by your sing-
ing has predisposed you to these fancies. Come to
yourself, I beg of you, and be sure that if Count
Albert is in Vienna, you will see him alive in his
own person before the end of the day.**

This hope revived Consuelo. She hastened for-
ward with Beppo, leaving behind her old Porpora,
who was not dissatisfied that she should forget him
in the warmth of her conversation with Haydn. But
Consuelo was thinking no more of Joseph than of the
master. She hurried and arrived all out of breath,
hastened to her apartment, and found no one there.
Joseph inquired of the servants whether any one had
called upon her during her absence. No one had
come, no one came. Consuelo waited in vain all
day. During the evening, and far into the night, she
looked out of the window at every belated wayfarer
who passed through the street. She seemed to be
always seeing some one come towards her door and
stop. But this some one would pass by, one singing,

196 CONSUELO.

another with an old man's cough, and be lost in
the darkness. Consuelo, convinced that she had
dreamed, went to bed, and the next day, this impres-
sion having vanished, she confessed to Joseph that
she had not really distinguished any of the features of
the person in question. His noble appearance, the
fashion of his cloak and the way he wore it, a pale
complexion, something dark beneath the face, which
might be either a beard or the shadow of a hat, deeply
marked by the odd light of the theatre, — these vague
resemblances, rapidly grasped by her imagination, had
sufficed to persuade her that she saw Albert.

" If such a man as you have often described to me
had been upon the stage," said Joseph, *' there were
enough people walking about for his careless dress,
his long beard and his black hair to have attracted
attention. But I have inquired everywhere, even of
the doorkeepers, who admit nobody to the interior
without knowing or seeing his authority, and no one
saw any stranger in the theatre on that day."

"Well, I must have dreamed. I was moved, be-
side myself. I thought of Albert ; his image passed
through my mind. Some one was there before my
eyes, and I took him for Albert. Has my head be-
come so weak? It is certain that I cried out from
the bottom of my heart, and that something very ex-
traordinary and absurd took place in me."

"Think no more of it. Do not weary yourself
with chimeras. Read over your role and think of
this evening."

CONSUELO. 197

CHAPTER XIV.

During the day Consuelo saw from her window a
very strange troop defiHng towards the place. They
were square-built men, robust, bronzed, with long
mustaches, bare legs, cross-gartered as with the an-
tique cothurni, their heads covered with pointed
bonnets, their belt supplied with four pistols, their
arms and necks naked, an Albanian carbine in their
hands, the whole set off by a scarlet mantle.

'* Is it a masquerade?" asked Consuelo of the
canon, who had come to visit her ; " this is not the
carnival, I believe."

" Look well at those men," replied the canon, " for
we shall not see them again in a long while, if it
pleases God to continue the reign of Maria Theresa.
See how curiously the people are scanning them,
though with a certain disgust or fright ! Vienna saw
them arrive in her time of anguish and distress, and
then she received them more joyfully than to-day,
ashamed and horrified as she is to owe them her
safety."

" Are they the Slav robbers of whom they told me
so much in Bohemia, and who did such harm? "

'' Yes ; they are the remains of those hordes of
Croat slaves and bandits whom the famous Baron
Francis von Trenck, the cousin of your friend Baron

198 CONSUELO.

Frederick von Trenck, freed and enslaved with in-
credible boldness and skill, to make of them almost
regular troops in the service of Maria Theresa. See,
there he is, that frightful hero, that Trenck with the
burnt jaws, as our soldiers call him ; that famous par-
tisan, the most wily, intrepid and necessary during
the sad years of warfare which have just passed ; the
greatest boaster and pillager of his age, assuredly,
but also the bravest, the most robust, the most active,
the most fabulously rash man of modern times. It is
• he, Trenck the Pandour, with his ravening wolves, a
sanguinary pack of which he is the savage shepherd."
Francis von Trenck was even taller than his Prus-
sian cousin. He was nearly six feet five. His scarlet
cloak, fastened at his throat by a clasp of rubies,
opened on his breast to display a whole museum of
Turkish arms, mounted with jewels, of which his
girdle was the arsenal. Pistols, curved sabres and
cutlasses, — nothing was wanting to give him the ap-
pearance of a most expeditious and determined slayer
of men. In place of an aigrette, he wore in his cap
a little scythe with four sharp blades, which fell upon
his forehead. His appearance was horrible. The
explosion of a barrel of powder,^ by disfiguring him,
had put the finishing touch to his diabolical look.

1 Having descended into a cellar at the pillage of a Bohemian town,
and in the hope of being the first to discover some casks of gold of
Virhose existence he had been informed, he hurriedly placed a light close
to one of these precious casks — but it was powder that it contained.
The explosion blew down part of the roof upon him, and they drew
him from the ruins at the point of death, with his body furrowed with
horrible burns, and his face covered with deep and indelible wounds.

CONSUELO, 199

'^ One could not look at him without a shudder," say
all the memoirs of the time.

"Is this that monster, that enemy of humanity?"
said Consuelo, turning away her eyes with horror.
" Bohemia will long remember his passage, — towns
burned and plundered, old men and children cut to
pieces, women outraged, the country exhausted by
contributions, the crops destroyed, the flocks butchered
when they could not be carried off, — everywhere ruin,
desolation, murder and conflagration. Poor Bohemia !
the eternal scene of every struggle, the theatre of
every tragedy ! "

" Yes, poor Bohemia, the victim of every fury, the
arena of every combat ! " replied the canon. " Francis
von Trenck reproduced there the savage excesses of
the time of John Ziska. Unconquered like him, he
never gave quarter ; and the terror of his name was
so great that his advance-guard has taken towns by
assault, when he himself was four miles off fighting
with other enemies. It can be said of him, as of
Attila, that the grass never grows where his horse has
trod. The conquered will curse him till the fourth
generation."

Trenck disappeared in the distance, but for a long
while Consuelo and the canon watched the passing of
his magnificent horses, richly caparisoned, led by his
gigantic Croat hussars.

" What you see is only a small fraction of his
wealth," said the canon. " Mules and wagons laden
with arms, pictures, precious stones and ingots of gold

200 CONSUELO.

and silver continually cover the roads which lead to
his estates in Slavonia. He has buried treasures there
which might furnish the ransom of three kings. He
eats from gold plate which he captured from the King
of Prussia at Sorau, when he nearly captured the king
himself. Some say that he missed him by a quarter of
an hour ; others assert that he held him prisoner in
his hands, and that he dearly sold him his liberty.
Patience ! It may be that Trenck the Pandour will
not long enjoy his glory and riches. They say that a
criminal prosecution is threatening him, and that the
most terrible accusations are hanging over his head ;
that the empress is greatly afraid of him ; in short,
that his Croats, who, contrary to their custom, have
not given themselves their own discharge, are to be
incorporated into the regular troops, and kept in hand
after the Prussian fashion. As for him, — I have a
poor idea of the compliments and rewards which
await him at court."

"They saved the crown of Austria, according to
what is said."

" That is certain. From the frontiers of Turkey to
those of France they have spread terror, and have
won the best-defended places and the most desperate
battles. Always the first in attacking the front of an
army, the head of a bridge or a breach in a fortress,
they have compelled our greatest generals to admira-
tion and our enemies to flight. The French every-
where recoiled before them, and the great Frederick
turned pale, like a simple mortal, they say, at their

CONSURLO. 20 1

war-cry. There is no river so rapid, no forest so im-
penetrable, no swamp so impassable, no rock so steep,
no hail of balls nor torrent of flames so furious, that
they have not passed through it at all hours of the
night, and at the most inclement seasons. Yes, truly,
they saved the crown of Maria Theresa more than all
the old tactics of our generals and all the stratagems
of our diplomats."

" In that case their crime will go unpunished, and
their robberies be hallowed."

" Perhaps they will be too much punished, on the
contrary."

" People do not rid themselves of servants who
have done so well."

" Excuse me," said the canon ironically, " when
one has no more use for them" —

" But were they not permitted to commit all their
excesses on the territories of the empire and its
allies?"

" No doubt ; everything was permitted them, be-
cause they were necessary."

"And now?"

" And now that they are so no longer, they are re-
proached for all that was permitted to them."

" And Maria Theresa^s great soul? "

" They profaned churches."

" I understand. Trenck is lost, canon."

" Hush ! That is only whispered."

"Did you see the Pandours?" said Joseph, coming
in out of breath.

202 CONSUELO,

"With very little pleasure/' replied Consuelo.

"Well, did you not recognize them? "

" It is the first time I ever saw them."

" No, Consuelo, it is not the first time you have
seen those faces. We met some of them in the
Boehmerwald."

" None that I recollect, thank heaven ! "

" Have you forgotten a hut where we passed the
night amid the fodder, and where we discovered
suddenly that ten or a dozen men were asleep around
us?"

Consuelo recollected the adventure in the hut, and
the meeting with those savage persons whom she, as
well as Joseph, had mistaken for smugglers. Other
emotions, which she had neither shared nor suspected,
had forever graven all the circumstances of that
stormy night on Joseph's memory.

" Well," he said, " those supposed smugglers, who
did not perceive our presence and who went out of
the hut before daylight, bearing bags and heavy
bundles, were Pandours ; they had the arms, the faces,
the mustaches and the cloaks which I have just seen
passing, and Providence spared us, without our know-
ing it, the most fatal meeting that we could have had
on our journey."

"Without any doubt," said the canon, to whom
Joseph had often related all the details of this journey,
" these honest fellows had discharged themselves, as
is their custom when their pockets are full, and were
on their way to the frontier, to return to their own

CONSUELO. 203

country by a long circuit, rather than to carry their
booty across the territory of the empire, where they
always fear to have to give an account of it. They
rob and murder each other all the way, and it is the
strongest who returns to his forests and his caverns,
laden with the shares of his comrades."

The hour of performance came to distract Consuelo
from her sombre thoughts of Trenck's Pandours, and
she went to the theatre. She had no room in which to
dress. Until then Madame Tesi had lent her her own ;
but this evening Madame Tesi, who was greatly
irritated at her success, and already her sworn enemy,
had carried off the key, and the prima donna of the
evening found herself greatly embarrassed to know
where to take refuge. These little treacheries are
common in the theatre. They irritate and annoy
a rival whose powers one is anxious to paralyze. She
loses time in asking for a room, and fears that she
may not find one. Time passes, and her comrades
say to her as they pass, " What, not dressed ? They
are going to begin." At last, after many requests and
much running about, by dint of anger and threats she
succeeds in obtaining a room in which she finds
nothing that she needs. If the dressmakers have
been bribed, the costume is not ready or fits badly.
The dressmakers are at the orders of every one but
the victim of this little torture. The bell rings, the
call-boy (the " butta-fuori") cries in his shrill voice
through the corridors, ^^ Signore e signori, si va
comificiar/ " terrible words which the debutante hears

204 CONSUELO.

with a mortal chill. She is not ready; she hurries,
breaks her laces, tears her ruffles, puts on her mantle
awry, and her crown will fall at the first step she takes
upon the stage. Panting, indignant, nervous, with
eyes full of tears, she must appear with a heavenly
smile ; she must sing with a pure, fresh, and true voice,
when her throat is contracted and her heart ready to
break. Ah, the crowns of flowers which rain upon the
stage in a moment of triumph have, on their reverse,
thousands of thorns !

Happily for Consuelo, she met Gorilla, who saia to
her as she took her hand, " Come into my room.
Tesi has tried the same trick on you that she played
me at first. But I will come to your rescue, if only
to enrage her. It will be a revenge, at least. At the
rate at which you are going, Porporina, I am likely to
see you pass before me, wherever I have the misfor-
tune to meet you. Then you will no doubt forget the
way in which I am behaving here, and remember only
the injury I have done you."

"The injury you have done me, Gorilla?" said
Consuelo, going into her rival's dressing-room and
beginning her toilet behind a screen, while the German
dressers divided their attention between the two
cantatrices, who could converse in Venetian without
being understood. " Really, I do not know what
injury you have done me. I do not recollect it."

"Is that true?" replied the other. "Have you
so completely forgotten little Zoto? "

"I was free and at Uberty to forget him, and I

CONSUELO. 205

have done it," said Consuelo, fastening her regaJ
cothurnus with that courage and clearness of mind
which the professional habit gives at certain moments.
Then she made a brilliant roulade, not to forget to
keep herself in voice. Gorilla replied by another
roulade ; then she stopped to say to the maid, —

" Young woman, you are lacing me too tight. Do
you think you are dressing a Nuremburg doll ? These
Germans," she continued in the dialect, " do not
know what shoulders are. They would make us as
square as their dowagers. Porporina, do not let
them bundle you up to the ears as they did the last
time ; it was absurd."

^' Ah ! as for that, my dear, it is the empress's order.
These ladies know it, and I do not care to rebel for
so little."

'*So little ! Our shoulders, so little ! "

'^ I do not say that for you, who have the hand-
somest figure in the world ; but for me " —

" Hypocrite ! " said Gorilla with a sigh, " you are
ten years younger than I, and my shoulders will soon
have to live upon their reputation."

" It is you who are a hypocrite," replied Gonsuelo,
horribly wearied by this sort of conversation ; and to
interrupt it she began, while still dressing her hair, to
make runs and iioriture.

" Keep still ! " suddenly exclaimed Gorilla, who was
listening to her in spite of herself; "you plunge a
thousand daggers into my throat. Ah ! I would gladly
give you all my lovers, for I should be very sure to

2o6 CONSUELO.

find others ; but I can never rival your voice and
method. Be still, for I should like to strangle
you ! ''

Consuelo, who saw that Gorilla was only half in
jest, and that this mocking flattery concealed a real
pain, took the hint; but after a moment Gorilla
said, —

" How do you make that ornament? "

"Would you like to make it? I will give it to
you," replied Gonsuelo laughing, with her admirable
good-nature. " Here, I will teach it to you. Sing
it somewhere in your role this evening. I will think
of another."

" It will be another still more difficult. I shall
gain nothing by it."

" Well, I will not make any at all. Porpora is not
fond of them, and it will be one less reproach for him
to utter this evening. Here, this is my ornament."

Taking from her pocket a Hne of music written
upon a scrap of paper, she handed it over the screen
to Gorilla, who at once began to study it. Gonsuelo
assisted her, sang it to her several times, and at last
taught it to her. Their toilets were all the time pro-
gressing.

But before Gonsuelo had put on her gown. Gorilla
impetuously thrust the screen aside and came in to
kiss her, in thanks for sacrificing her ornament. It
was not a very sincere feeling of gratitude which
impelled her to this demonstration. There was
mingled with it a perfidous desire to see her rival's

CONSUELO, 207

figure in her corset, that she might discover the secret
of some imperfection. But Consuelo wore no corset.
Her waist, slender as a reed, and her chaste and
noble figure borrowed nothing from art. She fath-
omed Gorilla's intention, and smiled.

"You may examine my person and penetrate my
heart,'* she thought, "you will find nothing false."

** Zingarella," said Gorilla, resuming, in spite of
herself, her unfriendly air and bitter tone, " do you
no longer love Anzoleto at all? "

" Not at all," replied Gonsuelo, laughing.

" And did he love you a great deal? "

" Not at all," said Gonsuelo, with the same indif-
ference and the same expression of conviction and
sincerity.

"That is what he told me," cried Gorilla, fixing on
her her blue eyes, clear and burning, hoping to sur-
prise a regret and reopen a wound in her rival's past.

Gonsuelo did not pride herself on her acuteness,
but she had that which belongs to frank souls, so strong
when opposed to craft. She felt the blow, and ac-
cepted it tranquilly. She no longer loved Anzoleto,
and she never suffered from wounded self-love ; she
therefore left Gorilla this little triumph of vanity.

" He told the truth," she said; "he did not love
me."

" But you, did you not love him? " asked the other,
more astonished than satisfied by this concession.

Gonsuelo felt that she could not be only half frank.
Gorilla wished to win a victory, she must be satisfied.

2oS CONSUELO,

" I loved him greatly," she replied.

"And you confess it? You have no pride, poor
child."

" I had enough to cure myself."

" That is to say that you were philosophical enough
to console yourself with some one else. Tell me with
whom, Porporina. It cannot be with that little
Haydn, who has not a penny to bless himself."

" That would be no reason. But I have never con-
soled myself with any one in the manner you mean."

" Ah, I know ! I forgot that you pretended. Do
not say such things, my dear, you will get yourself
laughed at."

" Therefore I will not say them unless I am ques-
tioned, and I shall not allow every one to question
me. It is a liberty which I have permitted you to
take, Gorilla; do not abuse it, if you are not my
enemy."

"You are a mask!" cried Gorilla; "you have a
deep wit, though you affect simplicity. You have so
much, that I almost believe you as pure as I was at
twelve years old. Yet that is impossible. Ah, how
clever you are, Zingarella ! You can make men be-
lieve whatever you like."

" I shall not make them believe anything, for I shall
not allow them to take enough interest in my affairs
to question me."

" That would be wiser ; they always take advantage
of our confessions, and have no sooner obtained them
than they humiliate us with their reproaches. I see

CONSUELO. 209

that you know how to manage. You do well not to
wish to inspire passions ; in that way you will have no
trouble and no storms ; you can act freely without
deceiving any one. By conducting one's self frankly,
one finds more lovers and makes a fortune more
quickly. But one needs more courage for that than
I have \ no one must please you, and you must not
care to be loved by any one, for those dangerous de-
lights of love can only be enjoyed by means of false-
hoods and precautions. I admire you, Zingarella !
Yes, I am filled with respect at seeing you, so young,
conquer love ; for the most fatal thing to our repose
and our voice, to the lasting of our beauty, to our
fortune and success, is love, is it not? Oh, yes, I
know it by experience ! If I had always been able
to confine myself to cold gallantry, I should not have
suffered so much, I should not have lost two thousand
sequins and two notes from the top of my voice. But
— you see how I am humbling myself before you — I
am a poor creature, born unlucky. I always, in the midst
of my finest affairs, have done something foolish which
has ruined everything. I have allowed myself to fall
in love with some poor devil, and farewell fortune !
Once I might have married Zustiniani \ yes, I might.
He adored me, though I could not bear him ; I was
the mistress of his fate. That miserable Anzoleto
pleased me, and I lost my position. Come, you will
give me advice, you will be my friend, will you not ?
You will save me from the weaknesses of my heart and
the impulses of my head ? And, to begin with, I must

2IO CONSUELO.

confess to you that for a week I have had an inclination
for a man whose favor is waning singularly and who
may soon be more dangerous than useful at court, —
a man who has millions, but who may find himself
ruined in a twinkling. Yes, I must cut loose from him
before he drags me down in his fall. Come ! The
devil wishes to give me the lie, for here he comes ; I
hear him, and I feel the fire of jealousy burning in
my cheeks. Close your screen, Porporina, and do
not move ; I do not wish him to see you.''

Consuelo made haste to carefully close her screen.
She had no need of the warning to cause her not to
desire to be examined by Corilla's lovers. A man's
voice, clear and true enough, though no longer fresh,
was humming in the corridor. There was a knock at
the door for form's sake, and some one came in with-
out waiting for a reply.

" What a horrible trade ! " thought Consuelo. " No,
I shall not allow myself to be seduced by the fascina-
tions of the stage. The inside of the theatre is too
filthy."

She hid in her corner, ashamed to find herself in
such company, appalled and indignant at the way in
which Corilla had understood her, and looking for the
first time into that abyss of corruption of which she
had conceived no idea.

CONSUELO. 211

CHAPTER XV.

While hastily finishing her toilet, in fear of being
surprised, she heard the following dialogue in
Itahan : —

" What are you doing here ? I forbade you to
come to my dressing-room. The empress prohibits
us, under the severest penalties, from receiving any
men here but our comrades, and even then there must
be some urgent necessity from the business of the
theatre. Just see to what you expose me ! I cannot
understand how the police of the theatre is so
neglectful."

" There is no police for people who pay well, my
beauty. It is only niggards who meet with resistance
or betrayal on their road. Come, receive me a little
better, or by the devil's body, I shall not come
back ! "

" It is the greatest pleasure you could do me. So
go ! Well, are you not going? ''

" You seem to wish it so sincerely that I am staying
to spite you,"

" I warn you that I shall send for the stage-manager
to rid me of you."

" Let him come if he is weary of living. I am
willing."

" But are you mad ? I tell you that you are com-

213 CONSUELO.

promising me, — that you are causing me to break a
rule recently introduced by her majesty, and that you
are exposing me to a heavy fine, and perhaps to being
discharged."

" I will undertake to pay the fine to your director
with a cane. As to your discharge, I ask nothing
better ; I will take you to my estates, where we will
lead a merry life.'*

" I, go with such a brute as you ? Never ! Come,
let us go out together, since you will not leave me
here alone."

" Alone ? Alone, my charmer ? I must make sure
of that before I leave you. That screen takes up a
great deal of space in so small a room. It seems to
me that I should be doing you a service to push it
back against the wall by a good kick."

" Stop, sir, stop ! A lady is dressing there. Do
you wish to kill or wound a woman, you wretch ? "

" A woman ? Ah, that is different ! But I wish to
be sure that she does not wear a sword."

The screen began to move. Consuelo, who was
entirely dressed, threw her cloak on her shoulders, and
while the stranger was opening the first leaf of the
screen, tried to open the last one, that she might slip
out by the door, which was only a couple of steps off.
But Gorilla, who saw her movement, stopped her,
saying, —

" Stay there, Porporina ; if he did not find you, he
might think it a man who was escaping, and kill me."

Consuelo was frightened, and resolved to show her-

CONSUELO, 213

self; but Gorilla, who was clinging to the screen
between her and her lover, still prevented her. Per-
haps she hoped tliat by exciting his jealousy she
might kindle in him enough passion for him not to
notice the touching grace of her rival.

" If a lady is there, let her reply to me," he said
laughing. " Madam, are you dressed ? Can one
present you his homage? "

" Be good enough, sir,'' said Consuelo, at a sign
from Gorilla, '^ to keep your homage for some one
else, and excuse me from receiving it. I am not
visible."

" Which means that now is the best time to look at
you," said Gorilla's lover, pretending to open the
screen.

*' Take care what you do," said Gorilla with a forced
laugh ; " suppose instead of a shepherdess in undress
you find a respectable duenna?"

" The devil ! But no ! Her voice is too fresh for
her to be more than twenty years old, and if she were
not pretty you would already have shown her to me."

The screen was very tall, and in spite of his great
height the stranger could not look over it without
throwing down Gorilla's dresses, which were lying on
the chairs ; besides, since he no longer feared that a
man was there, the sport amused him.

" Madam," he cried, " if you are old and ugly, I
will respect your refuge ; but if you are young and
handsome, do not allow yourself to be calumniated by
Gorilla."

214 CONSUELO.

Consuelo did not reply.

" Ah, upon my word ! " cried the stranger, after
waiting a moment, " I will not be your dupe. If you
were old or ill-favored, you would not admit it so
calmly ; it is because you are an angel that you are
indifferent to my doubts. In either case, I must see
you, for either you are a prodigy of beauty, able to
cause fear to the beautiful Gorilla, or you are a clever
enough woman to confess your ugliness, and I shall
be glad to see, for the first time in my life, an ugly
woman with no pretensions.''

He took Gorilla's arm with two fingers only, and
bent it like a straw. She gave a great cry, and pre-
tended that he hurt her ; he took no notice of it, and
opening the leaf of the screen revealed to Gonsuelo's
looks the horrible face of Baron Francis von Trenck.
A rich and elegant court dress had replaced his fierce
war costume ; but from his gigantic size and the large
blotches of reddish brown which covered his swarthy
face, it was impossible not to recognize at once the
bold and pitiless chief of the Pandours. Gonsuelo
could not restrain a cry of fright, and, turning pale,
fell upon a chair.

" Do not be afraid of me, madam," said the baron,
placing one knee upon the ground, " and pardon me
for the boldness which it is impossible, while I look at
you, to regret as I ought. But allow me to believe
that it was from pity for me (knowing that I could not
see you without adoring you) that you refused to show
yourself. Do not pain me by making me think that

CONSUELO. 215

I frighten you. I am sufficiently ugly, I admit ; but
if war has made a sort of monster out of a handsome
fellow enough, it has not made me any worse for that.''

"Any worse? No doubt that was impossible."

" Killoa ! " replied the baron, " you are a very shy
child, and your nurse must have told you vampire
stories about me, as all the old women of this country
do. But the young ones are more just to me. They
know that if I am a little rough in my ways with the
enemies of my country, I am very easy to tame when
they take the trouble."

And, leaning towards the mirror in which Consuelo
was pretending to look at herself, he fixed upon her
that look, at once ferocious and voluptuous, which had
fascinated Gorilla. Consuelo saw that she could only
get rid of him by irritating him, and she said to
him, —

" It is not fear, baron, that I feel for you, but dis-
gust and aversion. You love to kill, and I am not
afraid of death ; but I hate bloodthirsty natures, and
I know yours. I have come from Bohemia, and I saw
there the trace of your steps."

The baron's face changed, and he said, shrugging
his shoulders and turning towards Gorilla, —

" What devilis this? The Baroness Lestock, who
fired a pistol in my face in a skirmish, was not more
fierce against me ! Gan I have crushed her lover in
galloping over some heath ? Gome, pretty one, calm
yourself; I only wished to jest with you. Since you
are so crabbed, I bid you good-evening. I deserved

2i6 CONSUELO.

as much for allowing myself to be diverted a moment
from my divine Gorilla."

" Your divine Gorilla/' replied the latter, " cares
very little about your diversions, and begs you to
withdraw ; for the director w411 make his rounds in
a moment, and unless you wish to create a disturb-
ance " —

"I will go," said the baron; "I do not wish to
afflict you, or deprive the public of the freshness of
your voice by causing you to weep. I will wait for
you with my carriage after the performance. Is it
agreed? "

He kissed her, willing or no, before Gonsuelo, and
went out.

Gorilla at once flung herself upon her companion's
neck to thank her for having so successfully repelled
the baron's advances. Gonsuelo turned away her head ;
the handsome Gorilla, still sullied by the kiss of that
man, caused her almost as much disgust as he did.

" How can you be jealous of so repulsive a being? "
asked she.

" Zingarella, you know nothing about it," replied
Gorilla smiling. " The baron pleases women of higher
rank and a grander reputation for virtue than I. His
figure is superb, and his face, though spoiled by scars,
has charms which you would not resist if he took it
into his head to make you think him handsome."

" Ah, Gorilla ! it is not his face which repels me
the most. His nature is more hideous still. Do you
not know that his heart is that of a tiger? "

CONSUELO. 217

"That is what turned my head/' replied Gorilla
quickly. " It is hardly worth while to listen to the
comi:)liments of all these effeminate creatures ; but to
bind a tiger, to tame a lion of the desert and lead
him about in a leash ; to make him sigh, weep, roar,
and tremble, whose look puts whole armies to flight,
and who cuts off with a blow of his sabre the head
of an ox like the head of a poppy, — that is a more
acute pleasure than any I have known. Anzoleto had
a little of that ; I loved him for his wickedness, but
the baron is worse. The other might have beaten his
mistress, this one might kill her. Oh, I love him the
more for it ! "

" Poor Gorilla ! " said Gonsuelo, looking at her with
profound pity.

"You pity me for this love, and you are right; but
you would be still more right if you envied me. Yet
I prefer that you should pity me rather than strive to
take him away from me."

" You may be easy," said Gonsuelo.

^^ Signoray si va cominciar T^ cried the call-boy at
the door.

" Begin ! " cried a stentorian voice on the floor
above, occupied by the chorus-singers.

" Begin ! " replied another voice, mournful and
smothered, at the foot of a stairway which led to the
stage ; and the last syllable, passing like an echo from
wing to wing, died away as it reached the prompter,
who translated it to the conductor of the orchestra by
knocking three times upon the floor. The conductor.

2l8 CONSUELO.

in turn, rapped upon his desk with his bow, and after
that moment of concentration and preparation which
precedes the opening of a performance, the overture
began and imposed silence upon boxes and pit aUke.
From the first act of "Zenobia," Consuelo pro-
duced that complete, irresistible effect which Haydn
had predicted the afternoon before. The greatest
artists do not triumph every day upon the stage ;
even supposing that their strength never had moments
of failure, all parts and all situations are not suited to
the development of their most brilliant faculties. It
was the first time that Consuelo had found a role and
situations in which she could be herself, and reveal
herself in all her candor, strength, tenderness and
purity, without making an effort to identify herself
with an unfamiliar character. She could forget this
terrible labor and abandon herself to the emotion of
the moment, and be inspired suddenly by pathetic and
profound feelings which she had not had time to
study, but which were revealed to her by the mag-
netism of a sympathetic audience. She experienced
an unspeakable pleasure in this ; and, as she had felt
at the rehearsal and honestly said to Joseph, it was
not her triumph with the public which intoxicated her
with joy, but the happiness of succeeding in revealing
herself, the victorious certainty of having for a mo-
ment attained the ideal in her art. This time she
knew that she had displayed all her power, and,
almost deaf to the clamors of the crowd, she ap-
plauded herself in the secrecy of her conscience.

CONSUELO. 219

After the first act, she remained in the wings to
listen to the interlude, in which Corilla was charming,
and to encourage her by sincere praise. But after the
second act, she felt the need of resting for an instant,
and went back to her dressing-room. Porpora, who
was busy elsewhere, did not go with her, and Joseph,
who by a secret effect of the imperial protection had
been admitted among the violins in the orchestra,
naturally remained in his place.

Consuelo went alone, therefore, to Gorilla's room,
took a glass of water, and threw herself down for a
moment upon the sofa. But suddenly the memory of
the Pandour Trenck came to frighten her, and she ran
to lock the door. Yet there seemed little likelihood
that he would trouble her. He had gone into the
house when the curtain rose, and Consuelo had seen
him in the balcony, among her most enthusiastic ad-
mirers. He had a passionate love of music ; born and
bred in Italy, he spoke its language as harmoniously as
a true Italian, sang pleasantly, and " if he had been
born with no other resources, might have made his
fortune on the stage," if his biographers are to be
believed.

But what terror fell upon Consuelo when, as she
turned to the sofa again, she saw the fatal screen
shake and open to give passage to the accursed
Pandour !

She sprang towards the door, but Trenck was there
before her, and placing his back against it, said with
a frightful smile, —

220 COiVSUELO.

" Be a little calm, my charmer ! Since you share
this room with Gorilla, you must be accustomed to
seeing her lover here, and you must know that he
has a duplicate key in his pocket. You have come
to cast yourself into the cavern of the lion, — oh,
do not scream ! No one will come. They know
Trenck's presence of mind, the strength of his arm,
and how little he cares for the life of fools. If they
allow him to come here, in spite of the imperial
decree, it is that there is not, apparently, among all
your jack- puddings, a man bold enough to look him
in the face. Come, why do you turn pale and trem-
ble? Are you so little sure of yourself that you
cannot listen to three words without losing your
head ? Or are you afraid that I am a man to outrage
you ? These are old wives* tales, my child. Trenck
is not so bad as they say, and it is to convince you of
it that he wishes to talk with you a moment."

"Sir, I will not listen to you until you open that
door," said Consuelo, calling up all her resolution.
"On that condition I consent to hear you speak.
But if you persist in keeping me shut up here, I
shall think that this brave, strong man is not sure of
himself, and is afraid of the jack-puddings, my com-
rades."

" Ah, you are right ! " said Trenck, opening wide
the door, '* and if you are not afraid of catching cold,
I would rather have the air than stifle in the musk
with which Gorilla fills this little room. You do me
a service."

CONSUELO. 221

As he said this, he came back and took both of
Consuelo's hands, forced her to sit down upon the sofa,
and knelt at her feet, without releasing her hands,
which she could not remove without beginning a
childish struggle, perhaps fatal to her honor ; for the
baron seemed to await and provoke a resistance which
would awaken his brutal instincts and cause him to
lose all scruple and respect. Consuelo understood
this, and resigned herself to the shame of a doubtful
position. But a tear which she could not keep back
rolled slowly down her pale and sad cheek. The
baron saw it, and instead of being touched and dis-
armed, allowed a fierce and cruel joy to gleam from
his bloody eyelids, torn by the explosion.

" You are very unjust to me," he said, with a voice
the caressing sweetness of which betrayed a hypocrit-
ical satisfaction. "You hate me without knowing me,
and you do not wish to listen to my justification.
But I will not resign myself foolishly to your aversion.
An hour ago I did not care for it, but since I have heard
the divine Porporina, since I have come to adore her,
I know that I must live for her, or die by her hand."

"Spare yourself this ridiculous comedy," said the
indignant Consuelo.

"Comedy?" interrupted the baron. "See," he
said, drawing from his pocket a loaded pistol, which
he cocked and handed to her, "you will keep this
weapon in one of your fair hands, and if I offend you
in spite of myself in speaking to you, if I continue to
be odious to you, kill me, if you see fit. As for this

222 CONSUELO,

Other hand, I am resolved to hold it until you allow
me to kiss it. But I wish to owe this favor only to
your goodness, and you will see me ask for it and
wait for it patiently beneath the muzzle of that deadly
weapon, which you can turn against me when my
prayers become unbearable to you."

Trenck did in fact place the pistol in Consuelo's
right hand, and forcibly retained her left, remaining
at her feet with the confidence of an incomparable
conceit. Consuelo felt strong from that moment, and
placing the pistol so that she could use it at the first
danger, she said with a smile, —

" You can speak, I am Hstening to you."
As she said this, she thought that she heard steps
in the corridor and saw the shadow of some person
before her door. But this shadow quickly disap-
peared, either because the person had gone away
again or because Consuelo's fright was imaginary.
In her present situation, and having nothing to fear
but a scandal, she was more afraid than desirous of
the approach of any indifferent or friendly person ;
if she kept silence, the baron, surprised at her feet,
with the open door, could not fail to appear on
shamelessly intimate terms with her ; if she screamed,
if she called for help, the baron would certainly kill
the first person who entered. Fifty adventures of
this sort adorned the story of his private life, and
the victims of his passions were not, on this account,
considered less weak or less dishonored. In this
frightful dilemma, Consuelo could only hope for a

CONSUELO. 223

prompt explanation, and that by her own courage
she might bring Trenck to reason without there being
any witness to criticise and interpret this strange
scene in his own way.

He understood her thoughts in a measure, and
closed the door partly, but not entirely,

"Really, madam," he said, " it would be a folly to
expose you to the spiteful tongues of those who pass,
and this quarrel must be ended between ourselves.
Listen to me ; I see your fears, and I understand the
scruples of your friendship for Gorilla. Your honor,
your reputation for integrity, are dearer to me than
the precious moments in which I can see you without
witnesses. I know well that this panther, with whom
I was in love an hour ago, would accuse you of trea-
son if she suri:>rised me at your feet. She will not
have that pleasure. I have counted the moments ;
she will amuse the public with her simpering for ten
minutes longer. I have therefore time to tell you
that if I did love her, I now remember her no more
than the first apple that I plucked ; therefore, do not
fear that you are taking from her a heart which no
longer belongs to her, and from which nothing hence-
forth can ever efface your image. You alone, madam,
reign over me, and can dispose of my life. Why do
you hesitate ? You have a lover, they say ; I will rid
you of him with a wave of my hand. You are
watched by a morose and jealous old guardian ; I will
carry you off from under his eyes. You are thwarted
at the theatre by a thousand intrigues; the public

334 CONSUELO.

adores you, it is true, but the public is an ungrateful
creature that will abandon you at your first sore
throat. I am immensely rich, and I can make a
princess of you, almost a queen, in a wild country,
but where I can build you, in the twinkling of an
eye, palaces and theatres handsomer and larger than
those of the court of Vienna. If you need a public,
with the stroke of my wand I will bring one from the
ground, as devoted, submissive and faithful as that of
Vienna is the contrary. I am not handsome, I know ;
but the scars which decorate my face are more noble
and glorious than the paint which covers the pale
cheeks of your actors. I am hard to my slaves and
implacable to my enemies, but I am gentle to my
good servants, and those whom I love live in happi-
ness, glory and wealth. Finally, I am sometimes
violent ; they have told you the truth. One is not
brave and strong as I am, without loving to make use
of his strength when vengeance and pride call. But
a pure, timid, gentle and charming woman like you can
control my strength, enchain my will, and keep me
under her feet like a child. Only try ; trust yourself
to me secretly for a while, and when you know me
you will see that you can place your future in my
hands and go with me to Slavonia. You smile ! You
think this name too much like slavery. It is I, dear
Porporina, who will be your slave. Look at me, and
accustom yourself to the ugliness which your love can
turn to beauty. Speak the word, and you will see
that the red eyes of Trenck the Austrian can shed

CONSUELO. 225

tears of love and joy as well as the handsome eyes of
Trenck the Prussian, that dear cousin whom I love,
although we have fought in opposing ranks, and to
whom, they say, you have not been indifferent. But
that Trenck is a boy; and he who speaks to you,
though still young (he is only thirty-four, in spite
of his blasted face, which declares him twice that),
has passed the age of caprices, and will assure you
long years of happiness. Speak, speak ! say yes,
and you will see that passion can transfigure me
and make a radiant Jupiter of Trenck with the burnt
jaws. You do not reply; does a touching modesty
still make you hesitate? Well, say nothing, let me
kiss your hand, and I shall go away full of confidence
and happiness. See if I am such a brute, such a tiger
as they represent me ! I ask only an innocent favor,
and I ask it on my knees, — I, who, with a breath,
could overthrow you and know, in spite of your
hatred, a pleasure of which the gods might be jeal-
ous."

Consuelo was examining with surprise this frightful
man who seduced so many women. She studied this
fascination which, in fact, would have been irresist-
ible in spite of his ugliness, if his face had been that
of a good man, animated by the passion of a man of
heart ; but it was only the ugliness of an unbridled
voluptuary, and his passion was only the quixotism of
an impertinent presumption.

" Have you finished, baron?" she asked calmly.

But suddenly she blushed and paled, as she saw

226 CONSUELO,

a handful of great brilliants, enormous pearls and
priceless rubies which the Slav despot had thrown in
her lap. She rose suddenly and threw upon the
ground all these jewels which Gorilla would pick up.
" Trenck," she said, with all the force of contempt
and indignation, " you are the vilest of cowards in spite
of all your bravery. You have only fought against
lambs and fawns, and you have slaughtered them
without pity. If a real man had turned against
you, you would have skulked off like the fierce and
cowardly wolf that you are. Your glorious scars ! I
know that you received them in a cellar, where you
were seeking the gold of the conquered among their
corpses. Your palace and your little kingdom were
bought with the blood of a noble people, upon whom
despotism imposes such a countryman as you, with
the mite torn from the widow and orphan, with the
gold of treason, with the pillage of the churches in
which you pretend to kneel and count your beads
(for you are a bigot, in addition to your other fine
qualities). Your cousin, Trenck the Prussian, whom
you love so dearly, you betrayed, and tried to have
assassinated. These women whose glory and happi-
ness you made, you violated after butchering their
husbands and fathers. This love which you have
improvised for me is the caprice of a libertine. This
chivalrous submission, by which you placed your life
in my hands, is the vanity of a fool who thinks him-
self irresistible, and this trifling favor which you ask
would be a pollution that I could wash away only by

CONSUELO, 227

suicide. That is my last word, Pandour with the
burnt jaws ! Out of my sight ! Hence ! For if you do
not release my hand, which you have been freezing
in your own for a quarter of an hour, I will rid the
world of a scoundrel by blowing out your brains ! "

*^ Is that your last word, daughter of hell?" cried
Trenck ; " well, woe to you ! For the pistol which I
have disdained to knock from your trembling hand is
loaded only with powder ; a little burn more or less
does not frighten him who is proof against fire. Dis-
charge this pistol — make a noise ! It is all that I wish !
I shall be glad to have witnesses of my victory, for
now nothing can save you from my embraces, and you
have kindled in me by your folly flames which you
might have subdued with a little prudence."

As he said this Trenck seized Consuelo in his arms ;
but at the same moment the door opened ; a man
whose face was entirely concealed by a piece of black
crape tied behind his head stretched out his hand
upon the Pandour, made him bend and shake like a
reed beaten by the wind, and hurled him roughly to
the ground. It was the affair of an instant. Trenck,
stunned at first, rose, and with wild eyes, foaming
mouth and drawn sword rushed upon his enemy, who
had reached the door and seemed to fly.

Consuelo sprang to the threshold, thinking that she
recognized in this masked man the lofty figure and
strong arm of Count Albert. She saw him retire to
the end of the corridor, where a very steep, winding
stair led down to the street. There he stopped, waited

238 CONSUELO.

for Trenck, stooped quickly while the baron's sword
struck the wall above his head, and catching him
about the body threw him over his shoulder headlong
down the stair. Consuelo heard the giant rolling,
and wished to run to her rescuer, calling Albert, but
he had disappeared before she had the strength to
make three steps. A frightful silence reigned in the
stairway.

" Five minutes, signora," said the call-boy, as he
came out of the stair from the stage which led to the
same landing. " How does this door come to be
open?" he added, looking at the door of the stair-
case down which Trenck had been thrown ; " really
your excellency is in danger of catching cold in
this corridor."

He closed the door, which he locked, as was his
duty, and Consuelo, more dead than alive, returned to
her dressing-room, threw out of the window the pistol
which lay upon the sofa, kicked under the furniture
Trenck's jewels, which were glittering on the carpet,
and went upon the stage, where she found Gorilla,
still flushed and out of breath from the triumph which
she had just won in the interlude.

ICONSUELO. 229

CHAPTER XVI.

In spite of the convulsive agitation which had
seized upon Consuelo, she surpassed herself in the
third act. She was not prepared for this, she no
longer expected it ; she went upon the stage with the
desperate determination to fail with honor if she should
find herself suddenly deprived of voice and power
in the midst of a courageous struggle. She was not
afraid ; a thousand hisses would have been nothing
compared with the danger and shame from which she
had just escaped by an almost miraculous intervention.
Another miracle followed the first \ Consuelo's good
genius seemed to be watching over her. She had
more voice than ever before ; she sang in a more mas-
terly fashion, and acted with more energy and pas-
sion than she had ever displayed. Her whole being
was excited to its highest power; it seemed to her
that she would break at every moment, like an over-
strained cord ; but this feverish exaltation transported
her into a fantastic sphere ; she performed as in a
dream, and was astonished to find in it the strength
of reality.

And besides, a thought of happiness revived her
whenever she feared to fail. Albert was no doubt
there. He had, at least, been in Vienna since the day
before. He was watching her, following all her

230 CONSUELO.

movements, protecting her ; for to whom else could
she attribute the unexpected aid she had just received,
and the almost supernatural strength which a man
would need to overthrow Francis von Trenck, the
Slav Hercules? And if, from one of those oddities
of which his character afforded but too many instances,
he refused to speak to her ; if he seemed to wish to
avoid her glance, — it was none the less evident that
he still loved her ardently, since he guarded her with
such care, and protected her with such energy.

**Well," thought Consuelo, "since God does not
allow my strength to desert me, I wish Albert to see
me fine in my role, and in the corner of the building
from which he is now no doubt watching me, to enjoy
a triumph which I owe neither to cabal nor to charla-
tanism."

Still preserving the spirit of her part, she sought
him with her eyes, but could not discover him ; and
when she went behind the scenes she continued to
seek him there, but with as little success. Where
could he be? Where was he concealed? Had he
killed the Pandour instantly, when he threw him down-
stairs ? Was he obliged to fly from pursuit ? Would
he come and ask Porpora for a refuge ? Would she
find him this time when she returned to the embassy?
These perplexities disappeared as soon as she re-
turned to the stage ; then she forgot, as if by a magic
effect, all the details of her real life, to feel only a
vague expectation, mingled with enthusiasm, fright,
gratitude and hope. And all these were in her role.

CONSUELO. 231

and were revealed in accents admirably tender and
true.

She was recalled after the close, and the empress
was the first to throw her, from her box, a bouquet, to
which was attached a fairly valuable present. The
court and the town followed the sovereign's example,
sending her a rain of flowers. Amid these fragrant
palms Consuelo saw a green branch fall at her feet,
and her eyes became fixed upon it involuntarily. As
soon as the curtain was lowered for the last time, she
picked it up. It was a branch of cypress. Then all
the crowns of triumph disappeared from her mind,
leaving, to be considered and pondered over, only
this funereal emblem, a sign of grief and dread, the
expression, perhaps, of a last farewell. A mortal chill
followed the fever of emotion, an insurmountable
terror raised a cloud before her eyes. Her limbs
gave way, and they bore her fainting to the carriage
of the Venetian ambassador, where Porpora strove in
vain to get a word from her. Her lips were icy, and
her frozen hand held, beneath her cloak, the branch
of cypress, which seemed to have been blown to her
by the breath of death.

When she went down the staircase of the theatre
she had seen no traces of blood, and in the confusion
of coming out, few persons had noticed them. But
while she was returning to the embassy, absorbed in
her sombre thoughts, a painful scene was occurring
with closed doors in the green-room. A little before
the end of the performance, the theatre employes, on

232 CONSUELO,

opening all the doors, had found Trenck insensible at
the bottom of the staircase, and bathed in his blood.
They had carried him into one of the artist's rooms,
and to avoid noise and confusion had quietly notified
the director, the theatre physician and the police, that
they might come and verify the facts. The public
and the troupe, therefore, left the house and the stage
without learning of the occurrence, while the profes-
sionals, the imperial officers and a few compassionate
persons endeavored to revive and question the Pan-
dour. Gorilla, who was waiting for his carriage, and
had several times sent her maid to ask for him,
became impatient and out of temper, and ventured to
come down herself, at the risk of going home on
foot. She met Holzbauer, who took her to the green-
room, where she found Trenck with his head split
open, and his body so painful from bruises that he
could not move. She filled the air with her groans
and lamentations. Holzbauer sent away all needless
witnesses, and closed the doors. The cantatrice,
being questioned, could neither say nor surmise any-
thing to clear up the matter. At last, Trenck partly
recovered his senses and declared that, having come
into the interior of the theatre without permission, to
have a nearer view of the dancers, he wished to go
out hastily before the end, but that, not knowing his
way in this labyrinth, his foot had slipped on the first
step of this accursed staircase ; he had fallen and
had rolled all the way to the bottom. They accepted
this explanation, and he was taken home, where

CONSUELO. 233

Gorilla went and nursed him with a zeal which lost her
the favor of Prince Kaunitz, and consequently the
good-will of her majesty; but she bravely sacrificed
them, and Trenck, whose iron frame had resisted
more trying ordeals, got off with a week's stiffness
and another scar on his head. He boasted of his
misadventure to nobody, and vowed to make Con-
suelo pay dearly for it. He would no doubt have
done so, if an order of arrest had not withdrawn him
suddenly from Gorilla's devotion, to cast him into
the military prison, hardly recovered from his fall,
and still shaking with fever.^ That of which a faint
public rumor had warned the canon was begin-
ning to happen. The wealth of the Pandour had
excited an ardent, inextinguishable thirst in influential
men and skilful creatures of the empress. He was
the memorable victim to it. Accused of all the
crimes which he had committed, and all those ascribed
to him by the people interested in his ruin, he began
to endure the delays and vexations, the impudent
perjuries and refined injustice, of a long and scanda-
lous trial. Stingy, in spite of his ostentation, and
proud, in spite of his vices, he was not willing to pay
for the zeal of his protectors, or buy the consciences
of his judges. We will leave him for the present in
prison, where, having committed some violence, he

* Historical truth compels us to explain by what bravado Trenck
provoked this inhuman treatment. On the day of his arrival in Vienna
he had been placed under arrest in his own house by the imperial order.
Nevertheless, he appeared at the opera that same evening, and in an
intermission wished to throw Count Gossau into the pit.

234 CONSUELO,

had the grief to be chained by the foot. Shame and
infamy ! it was the same foot which had been torn by the
bursting of a shell in one of his most brilliant actions.
He had submitted to the scarification of the gangrened
bone, and, scarcely recovered, had mounted his horse
to return to duty with heroic firmness. They fastened
an iron ring and a heavy chain over this frightful scar.
The wound reopened, and he endured new tortures,
not to serve Maria Theresa, but because he had served
her too well. The great queen, who had not been
sorry to see him grind and rend that unhappy and
dangerous Bohemia, an insecure bulwark against
the enemy because of its ancient national hatred,
" the king," Maria Theresa, who, no longer needing
the crimes of Trenck and the excesses of his Pandours
to seat her firmly upon her throne, began to think them
monstrous and unpardonable, was supposed to be
ignorant of this barbarous treatment. In the same
way, the great Frederick was supposed to know
nothing about the sixty-eight pounds of irons which,
a little later, tortured the other Baron von Trenck, his
handsome page, his brilliant aide-de-camp, the saviour
and friend of our Consuelo. All the flatterers who
have lightly transmitted to us the account of these
abominable persecutions have laid the blame of them
upon subordinate officers, to cleanse the memory of
their sovereigns ; but these sovereigns, so ill-informed
concerning the abuses of their prisons, knew so well,
on the contrary, what went on in them, that Frederick
the Great made, himself, the design for the irons

CONSUELO, 235

which Trenck the Prussian wore for nine years in his
sepulchre at Magdeburg ; and if Maria Theresa did
not exactly give orders for Trenck the Austrian, her
valiant Pandour, to be chained by his wounded foot,
she was always deaf to his complaints, and inac-
cessible to his appeals. Besides, in the shameful orgie
which her servants made with the wealth of the victim,
she was well enough able to take the lion's share, and
refuse justice to his heirs.

Let us return to Consuelo, for it is the duty of a
novelist to pass rapidly over details which are purely
historical. Still, it seems impossible to absolutely
separate the adventures of our heroine from the
events which occurred in her day and beneath her eyes.
When she learned of the Pandour's misfortunes, she
thought no longer of the outrage with which he had
threatened her, and, heartily disgusted by the injustice
of his fate, she assisted Gorilla in supplying him
with money at a moment when he was refused means
to lighten the rigors of his captivity. Gorilla, who was
even more prompt in spending money than in gaining
it, happened to find her funds exhausted when a
messenger from her lover came to her secretly, to ask
her for the necessary sum. Gonsuelo was the only
person to whom this woman, impelled by an instinct
of confidence and esteem, dared to have recourse.
She immediately sold the gift which the empress had
thrown her upon the stage at the end of " Zenobia,"
and gave the proceeds .to her comrade, commending
her for not abandoning the unfortunate Pandour in his

236 CONSUELO.

distress. The zeal and courage which Gorilla dis-
played in serving Trenck as long as it was possible
restored to Consuelo a sort of esteem for this creat-
ure, corrupted but not perverse, who still had good
impulses of the heart and bursts of disinterested
generosity.

" Let us prostrate ourselves before the work of
God," she said to Joseph, who would sometimes
reproach her for being too cordial with this Gorilla.
" The human soul always preserves in its errors some-
thing good and great, in which one finds with respect
and joy that sacred impress which is like the
seal of heaven. Wherever there is much to pity,
there is much to pardon ; and where there is anything
to pardon, be sure, good Joseph, that there is some-
thing to love. This poor Gorilla, who lives after
the manner of the beasts, sometimes displays traits
worthy of an angel. No, I feel that I must become
accustomed, if I remain an artist, to seeing without
horror or anger the pitiful vileness in which the lives
of lost women are passed, between the desire for good
and the appetite for evil, between intoxication and
remorse. And even, I confess to you, it appears to
me that the role of a sister of charity is better for the
health of my virtue than a purer and gentler life,
more glorious and agreeable relations, or the calmness
of strong, happy and respected beings. I know that
my heart is like the paradise of the tender Jesus,
where there is joy over one sinner that repenteth more
than over ninety-and-nine just persons which need no

CONSUELO. 237

repentance. I feel made to compassionate, pity, aid
and console. It seems to me that the name my
mother gave me in baptism imposes on me this duty
and this destiny. I have no other name, Beppo.
Society has not charged me with the pride of a family
name to support ; and if, in the eyes of the world, I
debase myself by seeking a few grains of pure gold in
the mire of the evil lives of others, I have no account
to render to the world. I am Consuelo, nothing more ;
and it is enough for the daughter of Rosmunda ; for
Rosmunda was a poor woman of whom they spoke
worse even than of Gorilla, and such as she was, it
was my duty to love her, and I was able to do it.
She was not respected like Maria Theresa, but she
would not have caused Trenck to be fastened by the
foot, to make him die in torture and to seize his
wealth. Gorilla would not have done it either ; and
yet, instead of beating others for her, this Trenck,
whom she succors in his misfortunes, has often beaten
her. Joseph, Joseph ! God is a greater monarch than
any of ours, and perhaps, since in his palace Mag-
dalen has a duchess' place beside the spotless Virgin,
Gorilla may have precedence of Maria Theresa in that
court. As for me, in these days which I have to pass
upon earth, I confess that if I had to leave guilty and
unhappy souls, and sit down at the feet of the just in
moral prosperity, I should feel that I was no longer
on the road to heaven. Oh, the noble Albert under-
stood it as I do, and he would never blame me for
being good to Gorilla 1 "

238 CONSUELO.

When Consuelo said this to her friend Beppo, a
fortnight had passed since the evening of " Zenobia "
and Baron Trenck's adventure. The six performances
for which she had been engaged had taken place.
Madame Tesi had returned to the theatre. The em-
press was working underhand upon Porpora through
the Venetian ambassador, and still made Consuelo's
marriage with Haydn the condition of her permanent
engagement at the theatre, after the expiration of
that of Madame Tesi. Joseph was ignorant of this ;
Consuelo suspected nothing. She thought only of
Albert, who had not reappeared, and from whom she
received no news. She formed a thousand conject-
ures and contrary decisions. Her perplexities and
the shock of her emotions made her somewhat ill.
She had kept her room since she had left the theatre,
and was continuously gazing at the branch of cypress,
which seemed to her to have been taken from some
tomb in the Schreckenstein cavern.

Beppo, the only friend to whom she could open
her heart, had at first wished to remove her idea that
Albert had come to Vienna. But when she had
shown him the branch of cypress, he pondered deeply
over all this mystery, and ended by believing in the
young count's share in the adventure with Trenck.

" Listen ! " he said. " I think I understand what
has happened. Albert did in fact come to Vienna.
He saw you, listened to you, observed all your actions
and followed all your steps. The day when we were
talking on the stage beside the scene of the Araxes,

CONSUELO. 239

he may have been on the other side of this canvas,
and have heard the regrets which I expressed at see-
ing you removed from the theatre at the dawn of your
career. You yourself uttered some exclamations
which may have made him think that you preferred
the glory of your profession to the solemn sadness of
his love. The next day he saw you enter Gorilla's
room, or, perhaps, since he was on the watch there,
he saw the Pandour go in a few minutes before. The
time he took in rescuing you would almost prove that
he thought you there of your own will, and it must
therefore be after he yielded to the temptation of
listening at the door that he understood the urgency
of his intervention."

" Very good," said Consuelo ; " but why act so
mysteriously? Why hide his face with crape? "

" You know how suspicious the Austrian police is.
He may have been the subject of unfavorable reports
to the court ; he may have had political reasons for
concealing himself; perhaps his face was not unknown
to Trenck. Who knows whether, during the late
war, he did not see him, dare him, threaten him?
Whether he did not make him loose his hold when
he had his hand on some innocent victim? Count
Albert may have performed obscurely great deeds of
courage and hu inanity in his country, when they
thought him asleep in his Schreckenstein cavern ; and
if he did perform them, it is certain that he would
never have thought of telling you of them, for, ac-
cording to you, he is the moot humble and modest of

240 CO.VSUELO.

men. He therefore acted wisely in not chastising the
Pandour with his face exposed ; for if the empress
now punishes the Pandour for having devastated his
dear Bohemia, be sure that she is not, for that reason,
any the more disposed to leave unpunished an act
of open resistance in the past on the part of a
Bohemian.'^

" What you say is very true, Joseph, and gives me
food for thought. A thousand anxieties now arise in
me. Albert may have been recognized and arrested,
and it may have remained as unknown to the public
as Trenck's fall in the stairway. Alas ! perhaps he is
at this moment in the Arsenal prison, in a cell beside
Trenck's ! And it is for me that he incurred this
misfortune ! "

"Reassure yourself; I do not believe that. Count
Albert probably left Vienna at once, and you will
soon receive a letter from him, dated Reisenburg."

" Do you feel sure of it, Joseph? "

" Yes, I do ; but if you wish me to tell you all my
thoughts, I believe that this letter will be wholly dif-
ferent from what you expect. I am convinced that,
far from obtaining from a generous friendship the sac-
rifice which you wished to make him of your artistic
career, he has already resolved to forego this mar-
riage, and will soon restore you your liberty. If he is
intelligent, noble and just, as you say, he must feel a
scruple about withdrawing you from the theatre, which
you love passionately — do not deny it ! I have seen
it clearly, and he must have observed and understood

CONSUELO. 241

it as well as I, when he listened to ' Zenobia.' He
will, therefore, refuse a sacrifice beyond your strength,
and I shall esteem him little if he does not do it."

*' But read his last letter again ! See, here it is !
Does he not tell me that he will love me as much on
the stage as in society or in a convent ? Might he
not mean to marry me and leave me free?"

" To say and to do, to think and to be, are very
different matters. In a dream of passion everything
seems possible ; but when the reality suddenly strikes
our eyes, we return, terrified, to our old ideas. I can-
not believe that a man of quality would not be un-
willing to see his wife exposed to the caprices and
insults of an audience. When he set foot behind the
scenes, certainly for the first time in his life, the count
had, in Trenck's conduct towards you, a sad example
of the misfortunes and dangers of your life in a theatre.
He must have gone home in despair, it is true, but
cured of his passion and freed from his delusions.
Forgive me if I speak to you thus, Consuelo, my
sister. It is my duty ; for Count Albert's abandon-
ment is a blessing for you. You will feel it by and
by, although your eyes are now filled with tears. Be
just towards your betrothed, instead of being humili-
ated by his changing. When he said to you that he
felt no repugnance to the theatre, he was forming
an ideal which crumbled at the first touch. He com-
prehended then that he must cause you misery by
withdrawing you from it, or consummate his own
by following you there."

242 CONSUELO.

** You are right, Joseph. I feel that what you say-
is true ; but let me weep. It is not the humiUation
of being disdained and abandoned which wrings my
heart ; it is regret for an ideal which I had formed of
love and its power, as Albert had formed an ideal
of my life on the stage. He has understood that I
could not keep myself worthy of him (at least in the
opinion of men) while pursuing that career. And I
am compelled to perceive that love is not strong
enough to conquer all obstacles and renounce all
prejudices.'*

" Be just, Consuelo, and do not ask more than you
have been able to give. You did not love strongly
enough to renounce your art without hesitation and
unhappiness ; do not take it ill that Count Albert was
not able to break with the world without dread and
consternation. '*

" But, whatever may have been my secret sorrow
(I confess it to you now), I was resolved to sacrifice
everything to him; and he, on the contrary," —

" Remember that the passion was his, not yours.
He asked with ardor ; you consented with an effort.
He saw that you were about to sacrifice yourself; he
felt, not only that he had the right to rid you of a love
which you had not provoked, and the necessity for
which your soul did not recognize, but even that he
was obliged by his conscience to do so."

This reasonable conclusion convinced Consuelo of
Albert's wisdom and generosity. She was afraid that
if she abandoned herself to grief she would be yield-

CONSUELO, 243

ing to the suggestions of wounded pride, and, accept-
ing Joseph's hypothesis, she submitted and became
calm. But, by a pecuUarity common to the human "
heart, she no sooner found herself free to indulge her
taste for the stage, than she felt frightened by her
isolation amid all this corruption, and appalled by the
future of weariness and strife which opened before
her. The stage is a fierce battle-field ; when one is
on it he is excited, and all other emotions of life seem
pale and cold beside those which it arouses ; but
when one has left it, broken by fatigue, he is terrified
at having gone through this fiery ordeal, and the
desire which takes him back to it is mingled with
dread. I imagine that an acrobat is the type of this
painful, arduous and dangerous life. He must feel a
terrible nervous pleasure on his ropes and ladders,
upon which he performs prodigies beyond human
strength ; but when he has come down victorious, he
must feel faint at the idea of mounting again, and of
once more grasping death and triumph, — a spectre
with two faces which perpetually hovers over his
head.

Then the Castle of the Giants, and even the Rock
of Terror, that nightmare of all her slumbers, appeared
to Consuelo, through the veil of exile, like a lost para-
dise, the abode of a peace and purity forever august
and noble in her memory. She fastened the branch
of cypress, the last souvenir of the Hussite grotto, to
the feet of her mother's crucifix, and combining these
two emblems of Catholicism and heresy, she raised

344 CONSUELO.

her heart towards the idea of the only, eternal and
true religion. She drew thence a feeling of resigna-
tion to her present ills, and of faith in God's designs
for Albert, and for all men, good and bad, among
whom she must henceforth move, alone and without
a guide.

CONSUELO, 245

CHAPTER XVII.

One morning Porpora called her into his room
earlier than was his custom. His face was radiant ;
he held a large letter in one hand and his spectacles
in tfte other. Consuelo started, and trembled in all
her members, fancying that at last it was the reply
from Reisenburg. But she was soon undeceived ; it
was a letter from Hubert, — Porporino. This cele-
brated singer announced that all the master's con-
ditions for Consuelo's engagement had been accepted,
and enclosed the contract, signed by Baron Polnitz,
director of the royal theatre at Berlin, and awaiting
only Consuelo's signature. With this was a very
affectionate and respectful letter from the same baron,
inviting Porpora to come and compete for the direc-
tion of the chapel of the King of Prussia by the
production and execution of as many new operas and
fugues as he chose to supply. Porporino was delighted
at soon being able to sing, as he had longed, with a
" sister in Porpora/' and strenuously urged the master
to leave Vienna for Sans-Souci, the delightful abode
of Frederick the Great.

This letter gave Porpora great joy, and yet filled
him with uncertainty. It seemed to him that fortune
was beginning to unbend her face, so long frowning for
him, and that on two sides the favor of monarchs

246 CONSUELO.

(then so necessary for the development of artists)
offered him a happy prospect. Frederick called him
to Berlin ; in Vienna, Maria Theresa caused fine
promises to be made to him. In either case, Consuelo
must be the instrument of his success, — in Berlin, by
showing his productions to the greatest advantage ; in
Vienna, by marrying Joseph Haydn.

The moment had therefore come to place his fate
in the hands of his adopted daughter. He proposed
to her marriage or departure, whichever she chose ;
and under the circumstances he displayed much less
warmth in offering her the heart and hand of Beppo
than he would have done even the day before. He
was a little weary of Vienna, and the idea of seeing
himself appreciated and feted by the enemy pleased
him as a small vengeance, the probable effect of which
upon the court of Austria he somewhat exaggerated.
Besides, everything considered, as Consuelo had not
spoken to him for some time of Albert, whom she
seemed to have given up, he preferred her not to
marry at all.

Consuelo soon put an end to his uncertainty by de-
claring that she would never marry Joseph Haydn for
a number of reasons, the first of which was that he
had never sought her in marriage, being engaged to
Anna Keller, the daughter of his benefactor.

" In that case, there is no room to hesitate. Here
is your contract with Berlin. Sign it, and let us get
ready to leave ; for there is no hope for us here unless
you submit to the ' matrimoniomania * of the empress.

CONSUELO, 247

That is the price of her protection, and a decisive
refusal on your part will rendei us blacker in her eyes
than all the devils. '*

" My dear master/' replied Consuelo, with more
firmness than she had ever before shown to Porpora,
" I am ready to obey you as soon as my conscience is
set at rest on a point of capital importance. Certain
engagements of affection and esteem bound me to the
lord of Rudolstadt. I will not conceal from you that
in spite of your incredulity, your reproaches and your
mockery, I have persisted, during the three months that
we have been here, in preserving myself free from any
engagement which might interfere with this marriage.
But, after a decisive letter which I wrote six weeks
ago, and which passed through your hands, certain
things have occurred which cause me to believe that
the Rudolstadt family has renounced me. Every day
which goes by confirms me in the impression that my
word is released, and that I am free to consecrate to
you freely my devotion and my labor. You see that I
accept this destiny without regret or hesitation. Still,
from the letter which I wrote, I cannot have my mind
at rest if I obtain no reply. I am expecting it every
day ; it cannot be long. Permit me not to sign the
engagement with Berlin until after I have received '* —

** Oh, my poor child !'* said Porpora, who, at the
first words of his pupil, had planted his batteries, long
since prepared, " I received the reply of which you
speak more than a month ago " —

"And you did not show it to me ;" cried Consuelo,

248 CONSUELO,

'^ you left me in such uncertainty ! Master, you are
very odd ! How can I have confidence in you if you
deceive me in this way? "

" In what have I deceived you ? The letter was
addressed to me, and I was enjoined not to show it to
you until I saw that you were cured of your mad love,
and disposed to listen to reason and propriety."

"Are those the terms which they employed?" said
Consuelo, flushing. " It is impossible that Count
Albert or Count Christian should have spoken thus of
so calm, so reserved, so proud a friendship as mine."

" The terms are of no importance," said Porpora ;
^' these people of society always use fine language ; it
is for us to understand it. This much is certain, — that
the old count was not anxious to have a daughter-in-
law on the stage, and that when he knew you had
reappeared at the opera here, he induced his son to re-
nounce the degradation of such a marriage. The good
Albert accepted the situation, and they free you from
your promise. I am glad to see that you are not
angry. Everything is for the best, then, and we are
off for Prussia."

" Master, show me this letter, and I will sign the
contract immediately afterwards."

" This letter, this letter ? Why do you wish to see
it ? It will give you pain. There are certain follies
which we must know how to pardon in others and in
ourselves. Forget it all."

" One cannot forget by a single act of the will,"
replied Consuelo ; " reflection aids us and causes en-

CONSUELO, 249

lighten us. If I am rejected by the Rudolstadts with
contempt, I shall quickly be consoled ; if I am
restored to liberty with esteem and affection, I shall
be consoled in another way with less effort. Show
me the letter ; what do you fear, since in any event
I shall obey you? "

"Very well, I will show it to you," said the wily
old master, opening his secretary and pretending to
look in it for the letter.

He opened all the drawers and moved all his papers,
but the letter, which had never existed, naturally
could not be found. He pretended to become im-
patient ; Consuelo became impatient in earnest. She
took part in the search herself; he allowed her to do
as she chose. She upset all the drawers, overturned all
the papers. The letter could not be found. Porpora
endeavored to recollect it, and improvised a polite and
decisive version. Consuelo could not suspect her
master of so sustained a dissimulation. It must be
believed, for the honor ot the old maestro, that he did
not acquit himself very well ; but it required little to
convince so honest a mind as Consuelo's. She ended
by believing that the letter had served to light Por-
pora's pipe in a moment of absent-mindedness ; and
after having gone back to her room to say a prayer
and swear on the cypress eternal friendship to Count
Albert, come what might, she quietly returned to sign
an engagement of two months with the Berlin theatre,
to be entered upon at the close of that which had just
begun. This gave more time than necessary for the

250 CONSUELO.

preparations for departure for the journey. When
Porpora saw the ink fresh upon the paper, he kissed
his pupil, and greeted her solemnly with the title of
artist.

" This is your confirmation day," he said, " and if it
were in my power to make you take vows, I would dictate
to you that of forever renouncing love and marriage ;
for now you are a priestess of the god of harmony,
and as the muses are virgins, she who consecrates
herself to Apollo should take the oath of the vestals.'*

" I ought not to take an oath never to marry," replied
Consuelo, " though it seems to me now that nothing
could be easier than to promise and keep it. But I
might change my mind, and then I should have to
repent an engagement which I could not break."

" Then you are a slave to your word, are you ?
Yes, it seems to me that you are different in that
respect from the rest of humanity, and that if you had
ever in your life made a solemn promise, you would
have kept it."

" Master, I think that I have already given proof of
that, for ever since I have existed, I have been under
the control of some vow. My mother gave me both
precept and example of this sort of religion, which
she carried to fanaticism. When we were travelling
together she was wont to say to me, as we drew near
a large town, ' Consuelita, if I do well here, I call
you to witness that I vow to go barefooted to pray
for two hours in the chapel which has the greatest
reputation for sanctity in the neighborhood.* And

CONSUELO. 251

when she had done what she called well, the poor
soul ! that is, when she had earned a few crowns with
her songs, we never failed to accomplish our pilgrimage,
no matter what the weather, or how far off the fash-
ionable chapel. It was not a very enlightened or
sublime devotion, but at any rate, I considered these
vows sacred ; and when my mother, on her death-
bed, made me swear never to belong to Anzoleto
except in legitimate marriage, she knew well that she
could die easy through faith in my word. Later on,
I also promised Count Albert never to think of
another than him, and to employ all the powers of
my heart in loving him as he wished. I did not
break my vow, and if he did not now free me from it, I
could easily have remained faithful to him all my
life."

" Never mind your Count Albert, of whom you
must no longer think ; and since you must be under
the control of some vow, tell me by what one you are
going to bind yourself to me? "

" Oh, master, trust to my reason, my good conduct
and my devotion to you ! Do not ask me for an
oath, for it is a frightful yoke which one lays upon
one's self. The fear of breaking it takes away the
pleasure of thinking and doing right."

" I am not to be satisfied with such evasions," re-
plied old Porpora, with an expression half severe, half
playful ; " I see that you have made vows for every-
body but me. I say nothing of that which your
mother exacted. It brought you good luck, my poor

252 CONSUELO.

child ! Without it you would no doubt have fallen
into the snares of that infamous Anzoleto. But since
after that you could make, without love and from pure
goodness of heart, such grave promises to that Rudol-
stadt, who was only a stranger to you, I should think
it very wrong if on such a day as this, — the happy and
memorable day when you are restored to liberty and
betrothed to the god of art, — you had not the least
little vow to make for your old teacher, your best
friend."

" Oh, yes, my best friend and benefactor, my sup-
port and my father ! " cried Consuelo, throwing her-
self impulsively into the arms of Porpora, who was
so sparing of tender words that only two or three
times in her life had he shown her openly his pater-
nal love. " I can surely, without fear or hesitation,
vow to devote myself to your happiness and glory so
long as I have a breath of life."

" My happiness is glory, Consuelo, you know it,"
said Porpora, pressing her to his heart. ** I can
imagine none else. I am not one of those old Ger-
man shopkeepers who dream of no other happiness
than to have their little girl beside them to fill their
pipes and knead their cakes. I require neither slip-
pers nor gruel, thank God ! and when I no longer
need anything else, I shall not allow you to devote
your life to me, as you already do with too much zeal.
No, that is not the devotion I demand, you know it
well ; what I expect is that you shall be frankly an
artist. Do you promise to be one? to combat this

CONSUELO. 253

languor, this irresolution, this sort of disgust, which
I saw beginning here? not to listen to the pretty
speeches of these fine lords who seek wives on the
stage, some because they think they can make good
housekeepers of them, and drop them as soon as they
see that they have a vocation ; others, because they
are ruined, and the pleasure of recovering a carriage
and a good table at the cost of their lucrative better
halves causes them to overlook the dishonor attach-
ing in their own rank to marriages of this kind?
Come, will you promise me also not to let your head
be turned by some little tenor with a thick voice and
curly hair, like that rascal Anzoleto, who will never
have any merit but in his calves or success but by his
impudence? "

"I promise, I swear all that solemnly,'* replied
Consuelo, laughing good-naturedly at Porpora's ex-
hortations, which were a little sharp in spite of him-
self, but to which she was perfectly accustomed.
"And I will do more," she added, resuming her seri-
ous tone ; "I swear that you will never have to com-
plain of a day's ingratitude in my life."

" Ah, that ! I do not ask so much ! " replied he in a
bitter tone ; 'Mt is more than human nature admits
of. When you are famous in all the countries of
Europe, you will have vanities, ambitions, vices of the
heart which no great singer has been able to resist.
You will want success at any price. You will not be
satisfied to conquer it patiently, or to risk it to remain
faithful either to friendship or to devotion to what is

254 CONSUELO,

really beautiful. You will submit to the yoke of
fashion as they all do ; in every city you will sing the
music in favor, without regard to the bad taste of
the public or the court. In short, you will make
your way and be great in spite of that, since there is
no other way to be great in the eyes of the multitude.
If only you do not forget to choose well and to sing
well when you have to undergo the judgment of a
small assembly of old heads like myself, and if, before
the gr^at Handel and old Bach, you do honor to
Porpora's method and to yourself, that is all that
I ask or hope of you. You see that I am not a selfish
father, as some of your flatterers no doubt accuse me
of being. I ask you nothing which is not for your
own success and glory."

" And I care for nothing which is for my personal
advantage," replied Consuelo, touched and grieved.
" I may allow myself to be carried away in the midst
of a success by an involuntary intoxication ; but I
cannot think calmly of constructing a whole life of
triumph to crown myself with it with my own hands.
I wish to have glory for you, my master ; in spite of
your incredulity, I wish to show you that it is for you
alone that Consuelo labors and travels ; and to prove
to you at once that you have calumniated her, since
you believe in her vows, I make you this one to prove
to you what I say."

"And on what will you swear it?" said Porpora,
with an affectionate smile in which there was still a
trace of mistrust.

CONSUELO. 255

'^ On the white hair, on the sacred head, of Por-
pora," said Consuelo, taking his white head between
her hands fervently and kissing its brow.

They were interrupted by Count Hoditz, whom a
tall footman came to announce. This lackey, while
asking leave for his master to present his respects
to Porpora and his pupil, looked at the latter with
an air of attention, embarrassment and doubt which
surprised Consuelo, although she could not recollect
where she had seen this good but somewhat odd face.
The count was admitted, and presented his request in
the most courteous terms. He was about to set out
for his manor of Roswald, in Moravia, and wishing to
render this visit agreeable to the margravine, he was
preparing a magnificent festival to surprise her upon
her arrival. He consequently proposed to Consuelo
to go and sing three successive evenings at Roswald,
and he begged Porpora to accompany him to aid in
directing the concerts, spectacles and serenades to
which he designed treating the margravine.

Porpora pleaded the engagement which they had
just signed, and the necessity of their being in Berlin
on a fixed day. The count wished to see the engage-
ment, and as Porpora had always found him well dis-
posed, he gave him the small pleasure of being taken
into their confidence in this affair, of commenting on
the contract, of playing the expert and giving advice ;
after which Hoditz insisted on his request, showing
that they had more time than they needed to satisfy
it without missing their appointment.

256 CONSUELO,

" You can finish your preparations in three days/'
said he, " and go to Berhn by way of Moravia."

It was not the shortest road, but instead of going
slowly through Bohemia, a country recently devastated
by war, and with an ill- served post, Porpora and his
pupil would go swiftly and comfortably to Roswald in
a carriage which, together with the relays, the count
placed at their disposal ; that is to say, he assumed
the trouble and expense. He further undertook to
forward them in the same way from Roswald to Par-
dubitz, if they wished to descend the Elbe to Dresden,
or to Chrudim if they wished to pass through Prague.
The conveniences which he offered them would, in
fact, shorten the time of their journey, and the round
sum which he gave in addition would enable them
to make the remainder more agreeably. Porpora ac-
cepted, in spite of the little grimace which Consuelo
made to dissuade him. The bargain was concluded,
and the departure arranged for the last day of the
week.

When, after having respectfully kissed her hand,
Hoditz had left her alone with her master, she re-
proached Porpora for allowing himself to be so easily
persuaded. Although she no longer feared the count's
impertinence, she still felt a little resentment against
him, and was not pleased at going to his house. She
did not wish to relate the Passau adventure to her
master, but she reminded him of his own jokes about
the count's musical inventions.

*' Do you not see," she said, " that I shall be con-

CONSUELO. 257

demned to sing his music, and that you will be obliged
to conduct seriously cantatas, and perhaps even operas,
of his manufacture? Is it thus that you make me
keep my vow to remain faithful to the worship of the
beautiful?"

" Bah ! " replied Porpora with a laugh, " I shall
not do it as gravely as you think ; I intend, on the
contrary, to amuse myself with it hugely, without
having the patrician maestro in the least suspect it.
To perform these things seriously, and before a re-
spectable public, would indeed be a blasphemy and a
shame ; but it is permissible to amuse one's self, and an
artist would be very unfortunate if, in earning his liv-
ing, he had not a right to laugh at those from whom
he earns it. Besides, you will see there your Princess
of Culmbach, whom you like, and who is charming.
She will laugh with us, though she laughs little, at her
father-in-law's music.

It was necessary to submit, pack the trunks, and make
the necessary purchases and the last farewells. Joseph
was in despair. Still, a piece of good fortune, a great
artistic happiness, had just come to him, and was
some compensation, or at least a forced distraction,
from the grief of this separation. As he had played
his serenade beneath the window of the excellent pan-
tomimist, Bernadone, the famous harlequin of the
Karnthner-Thor Theatre, this amiable and intelligent
artist had been filled with surprise and interest. He
had called Joseph up, and had asked him who was
the composer of this pretty and original trio. He

25S CONSUELO.

was astonished at his youth and his talent. He had
intrusted Haydn on the spot with the Hbretto of a
ballet called " The Devil on Two Sticks," the music
for which he was beginning to write. He was work-
ing on the tempest which gave him so much trouble,
and the recollection of which still caused the good
man to laugh when he was eighty years old. Con-
suelo endeavored to divert him from his sadness by
talking to him of his tempest, which Bernadone
wished terrible, and which Beppo, who had never
seen the sea, could not succeed in painting. Con-
suelo described to him the Adriatic in a storm, and
sang him the moan of the waves, not without laughing
with him at these effects of imitative harmony, to be
aided on the stage by that of a blue cloth shaken
from one wing to the another.

" Listen," said Porpora, to reHeve him of his per-
plexities, " you might work a hundred years with the
finest instruments in the world and the most exact
knowledge of the noises of wind and wave, aad you
could not reproduce the sublime harmony of nature.
That is not the province of music. She goes child-
lishly astray when she runs after feats of ingenuity
and tricks of sound. She is greater than that ;
emotion is her kingdom. Her object is to inspire it,
as her cause is to be inspired by it. Therefore, think
of the feelings of a man in torment ; imagine a fright-
ful, magnificent, terrible spectacle, an imminent
danger ; place yourself, a musician — that is, a human
voice, a human wail, a living, throbbing soul — amid

CONSUELO, 259

this distress, disorder and terror; express your
anguish, and the audience, intelligent or not, will
share it. It will fancy that it beholds the sea, hears
the creaking of the vessel, the cries of the sailors, the
despair of the passengers. What would you say of a
poet, who, to describe a battle, told you in verse that
the cannon went * bourn, bourn,' and the drums ' rat-a-
tat?* It would be imitative harmony more exact
than splendid figures ; but it would not be poetry.
Painting itself, that preeminently descriptive art, is
not an art of servile imitation. The artist might
paint in vain the dark green of the sea, the black sky
of the storm and the shattered hull of the ship. If
he has not the feeling to reproduce the horror and
the poetry of the scene, his painting will be without
color, though it were as brilliant as the sign of a beer
shop. Therefore, young man, allow yourself to be
moved by the idea of a great disaster, and in this way
you will move others by it.'*

He was still paternally repeating these exhortations
to him while the carriage, ready in the courtyard of
the embassy, was loading with the luggage. Joseph
listened attentively to his counsels, drinking them in
at the source, so to speak ; but when Consuelo, in
her furred hood and cloak, came and threw herself
upon his neck, he turned pale, smothered a cry, and
unable to resolve to see her set out, fled and hid his
sobs in Keller's back shop. Metastasio took a friend-
ship for him, perfected him in Italian, and compen-
sated him somewhat by his good advice and generous

26o CONSUELO.

services for Porpora's absence ; but Joseph was long
sad and unhappy before he could accustom himself to
that of Consuelo.

Our heroine, though also sad, and regretting so
faithful and amiable a friend, felt her courage, her
ardor and the poetry of her feelings revive as she
made her way into the mountains of Moravia. A
new sun was rising upon her life. Freed from every
bond or influence unconnected with her art, it seemed
to her that she owed herself to it wholly. Porpora,
restored to hope and the playfulness of his youth,
excited her by eloquent declamations ; and the noble
girl, without ceasing to love Albert and Joseph like
brothers whom she was to meet again in the bosom of
God, felt light as the lark which rises singing towards
heaven on the morning of a fair day.

CONSUELO, 261

CHAPTER XVIII.

At the second relay Consuelo had recognized, in
the servant who accompanied them, and who, seated
on the box of the carriage, paid the guides and
scolded the postilions for their slowness, the same
lackey who had announced Count Hoditz on the day
when he had come to propose to them the excursion
to Roswald. This tall and powerful fellow, who was
always looking at her stealthily, and who seemed di-
vided between the desire and the fear of speaking to
her, at last attracted her attention ; and one morning,
while she was breakfasting in a lonely inn at the foot
of the mountains, Porpora having gone for a walk in
search of some musical theme, while waiting for the
horses to rest, she turned towards this servant as he
was handing her coffee, and looked at him with a
somewhat severe and irritated air. But he assumed
such a piteous expression that she could not restrain a
burst of laughter. The April sun was shining upon
the snow which still crowned the mountains, and our
young traveller felt in a good humor.

" Alas ! " said the mysterious lackey at last, " does
not your ladyship deign to recognize me ? I should
have known you anywhere, though you were disguised
as a Turk or a Prussian corporal ; and yet I never
saw you but for an instant, — but what an instant ! "

262 CONSUELO,

As he said this, he laid upon the table the salver
which he was bringing her ; and approaching Consuelo,
he gravely made a sign of the cross, knelt and kissed
the floor at her feet.

" Ah ! " cried Consuelo, " Karl, the deserter, is it
not?"

"Yes, signora," replied Karl, kissing the hand which
she extended to him ; " at least I have been told that
I must call you so, though I have never understood
very well whether you were a gentleman or a lady."

" Really? Why are you uncertain? "

" It is because I saw you as a boy, and that since
then, although I recognize you perfectly, you have
become as much Hke a young girl as you formerly
were like a boy. But that makes no difference ; you
have done me services which I shall never forget.
You might order me to throw myself from the top of
that peak, and if it could give you pleasure, I would
not refuse to do it."

" I ask you nothing, good Karl, but to be happy and
enjoy your liberty ; for you are free, and I imagine
that you love life now."

" Free, yes," said Karl, " but happy ! — I have lost
my poor wife."

Consuelo's eyes filled, by a sympathetic impulse.

" Ah ! " he went on, shaking his red mustache,
from which the tears dripped hke rain from a hedge,
" she suffered too much, the poor soul ! The grief of
seeing me carried off a second time by the Prussians,
a long journey on foot when she was very ill, then the

CONSUELO, 263

joy of seeing me again, — all that caused a reaction,
and she died a week after her arrival in Vienna where
I was seeking her, and where, thanks to your note, she
found me by the aid of Count Hoditz. That generous
lord sent her aid and his own physician, but it was of
no use \ she was weary of life, you see, and she went
to rest in the good Lord's heaven.'*

"And your daughter?" said Consuelo, endeavoring
to suggest to him some consoling idea.

" My daughter? " said he, with a sombre and some-
what wild air, " the King of Prussia killed her too."

" How killed ? What do you mean ? "

" Is it not the King of Prussia who killed the mother
by causing her all this ill ? Well, the child followed
the mother. From the night when, after seeing me
covered with blood, bound and borne off by the re-
cruiters, they both lay for dead upon the road, the
child had been continually shaking with a violent fever ;
the fatigue and trials of the journey finished them.
When you met them on a bridge at the entrance to
some Austrian village, they had eaten nothing for two
days. You gave them money, told them that I was
alive, did everything in your power to console and
cure them, — they told me all that, — but it was too
late. They only grew worse when w^e were reunited,
and at the moment when we might have been happy,
they were borne to the cemetery. The earth was
hardly settled over my wife's body when we had to
open it again to receive my child ; and now, thanks to
the King of Prussia, Karl is alone in the world."

264 CONSUELO,

" No, my poor Karl, you are not abandoned ; you
still have friends who take an interest in your misfor-
tunes and in your good heart."

" I know it. Yes, there are honest folk, and you
are one of them. But what do I need now that I
have neither wife, child, nor country? For I shall
never be safe in my own ; my mountain is too well
known to those villains who have already come to seek
me there twice. As soon as I found myself alone, I
asked if we were at war, or soon would be. I had
only one idea ; it was to serve against Prussia, that I
might kill as many Prussians as possible. Ah ! St.
Wenceslas, the patron of Bohemia, would have guided
my arm ; and I am very sure that not a ball from my
gun would have been wasted. I said to myself,
' Perhaps Providence will allow me to meet the King
of Prussia in some defile,' — and then, though he
were armored like the Archangel Michael, and though
I had to follow him like a wolf on the scent — But
I learned that peace was assured for a long time ; and
then, no longer caring for anything, I went to my lord,
Count Hoditz, to thank him, and to beg him not to
present me to the empress, as he had intended. I
wished to kill myself; but he was so good to me, and
his step-daughter, the Princess of Culmbach, to whom
they had secretly related my story, spoke such beau-
tiful words to me concerning my duty as a Christian,
that I consented to live and enter their service, where,
really, I am too well fed and treated for the little work
I have to do."

CONSUELO. 265

" Now tell me, my dear Karl,'' said Consuelo
wiping her eyes, " how you were able to recognize
me."

" Did you not come one evening to sing at the
house of my new mistress, the margravine? I saw
you pass, all in white, and I knew you at once,
although you had become a young lady. The truth
is, you see, that I do not recollect much about the
places through which I have passed, or the names of
the people I have met; but as for faces, I never
forget them. I began to make the sign of the cross
when I saw a lad who followed you, and whom I
recognized as Joseph ; and instead of being your
master, as he was at the time of my rescue (for he
was better dressed then than you), he had become
your servant, and remained in the antechamber.
He did not recognize me, and as the count had for-
bidden me to say a word to any one about what had
happened to me (I never knew or asked why), I
did not speak to that good Joseph, though I longed
to fall upon his neck. He went into another room
almost immediately. I had orders not to leave that
in which I was, and a faithful servant can only obey.
But when every one had gone, the count's valet said
to me, ' Karl, you did not speak to Porpora's little
servant, although you recognized him, and you did
well. The count will be pleased with you. As for
the young lady who sang this evening' — *0h, I
knew her also ! ' I cried, * but I said nothing.' — ' Well,'
he added, ^ you were right in that also. The count

266 CONSUELO.

does not wish it known that she travelled with him
to Passau.' — ^That is none of my business/ I re-
phed, * but may I ask you how she rescued me from
the hands of the Prussians ? ' Then Henry told me
how the affair happened (for he was there) ; how you
ran after the count's carriage, and how, when you
no longer had anything to fear for yourselves,
you insisted on their coming to save me. You said
something about it to my poor wife, and she told it
to me ; for she died commending you to God and
saying to me, 'They are poor children, who appear
almost as unfortunate as we ; yet they gave me all
that they had, and wept as if we had been their own
flesh and blood/ Therefore when I saw Master
Joseph in your service, having been directed to take
him some money from the count, for whom he had
played the violin another evening, I put some ducats
in the paper, the first that I earned in this house.
He never knew it, and did not recognize me ; but if
we return to Vienna, I will arrange it so that he shall
never be straitened so long as I can earn anything.'*

" Joseph is no longer in my service, my good Karl ;
he is my friend. He is not in want ; he is a musician,
and can easily make his living. Do not rob yourself
for him."

"As for you, signora," said Karl, "I cannot do
much for you, since you are a great actress, it seems ;
but if ever you should need a servant, and could not
pay him, call upon Karl, and count on him. He will
serve you for nothing, and be happy to work for you,'*

CONSUELO. 267

*' I am well enough repaid by your gratitude, my
friend. I wish nothing more."

*^ Here is Master Porpora coming back. Recollect,
signora, that I have not the honor to know you
otherwise than as a servant placed at your orders
by my master."

The next day our travellers, having risen early,
reached the castle of Roswald about noon. It was
situated in an elevated region, on the side of the
finest mountains of Moravia, and so well sheltered
from cold winds that spring had already appeared
there, while for half a league around it was still
winter. Although the season was prematurely fine,
the highways were still nearly impassable. But
Count Hoditz, who stopped at nothing, and for whom
the impossible was a jest, had already arrived and
had a hundred laborers at work smoothing the road
over which the majestic equipage of his noble spouse
was to roll on the morrow. It would perhaps have
been more husbandly and more useful to travel with
her; but it was not so important to save her from
breaking her arms and legs on the road as to give her
a fete ; and, dead or alive, she must have a splendid
entertainment on taking possession of the palace of
Roswald.

The count hardly allowed our travellers time to
change their toilets, and had a very handsome dinner
served them in a rocky and mossy grotto which was
agreeably heated by an enormous stove, skilfully
concealed by false rocks. At first sight this spot ap-

268 CONSUELO.

peared enchanting to Consuelo. The view which one
saw from the opening was really magnificent. Nature
had done everything for Roswald. A varied and pict-
uresque landscape, forests of green trees, abundant
springs, admirable views and immense meadows would
seem, with a comfortable dwelling, to be enough to
constitute an ideal country-seat. But Consuelo soon
observed the odd devices by which the count had suc-
ceeded in spoiling this sublime nature. The grotto
would have been charming without the glass, which
made it an unseasonable dining-room. As the honey-
suckle and convolvulus were as yet only budding, the
woodwork of the doors and windows had been con-
cealed by artificial flowers and leaves. The shells
and stalactites, somewhat injured by the winter, re-
vealed the plaster and mastic which fastened them to
the walls of the rock, and the heat of the stove,
condensing a remains of humidity collected at the
roof, caused a black and unwholesome rain, which
the count would not perceive, to fall upon the heads
of his guests. Porpora became angry at it, and two
or three times put his hand to his hat, but without
daring to clap it on his head, as he was dying t^ do.
He above all feared that Consuelo would take cold,
and ate hastily, pretending a lively impatience to
see the music which he was to conduct on the
morrow.

"What are you anxious about, dear maestro?"
said the count, who was a great eater, and who loved
to detail at length the history of the acquisition or the

CONSUELO. 269

construction, under his own direction, of all the rich
and curious pieces of his table service ; " able and
finished musicians like you need only a moment to
prepare. My music is simple and natural. I am not
one of those pedantic composers who endeavor to
astonish by learned and odd harmonic combinations.
In the country, simple and pastoral music is needed.
I care only for pure and easy airs ; this is also the
taste of the margravine. All will go well, you will
see. Besides, we are losing no time. While we are
breakfasting here, my major-domo is preparing every-
thing according to my orders, and we shall find the
choirs at their different stations, and all the musicians
at their posts.'*

As he said this, word was brought that two foreign
ofilicers, travelling through the country, asked leave
to enter and pay their respects to the count, and to
visit, with his leave, the palace and gardens of Ros-
wald. The count was accustomed to calls of this
kind, and nothing gave him more pleasure than to be
himself the guide of the curious through the delights
of his residence.

" Let them come in ; they are welcome ! " he
cried. " Set places for them and bring them here."

A few moments later the two officers were intro-
duced. They wore the Prussian uniform. He who
walked first, and behind whom his companion seemed
determined to conceal himself entirely, was small, and
with a rather sour face. His nose, long, heavy and
without nobleness, added to the disagreeable effect

270 CONSUELO.

of his vulgar mouth and his retreating, or rather ab-
sent, chin. His somewhat bent shoulders gave an old-
ish air to his figure, which had an awkward look in the
clumsy coat invented by Frederick. Yet this man was
forty years of age at most. His bearing was bold,
and when he took off the poor hat which covered his
face to the bridge of his nose, he showed what there
was handsome in his head, — a firm forehead, intelli-
gent and thoughtful ; mobile brows, and eyes of ex-
traordinary clearness and animation. His look trans-
formed him, like those rays of the sun which suddenly
color and beautify the dreariest and least poetic land-
scapes. He seemed to grow a whole head taller
when his eyes shone in his pale, thin and suspicious
face.

Count Hoditz received them with an hospitality
more cordial than ceremonious, and without losing
time in long compliments, had two places set for
them, and caused them to be served with the choicest
dishes with truly patriarchal kindness ; for Hoditz was
the best of men, and his vanity, instead of corrupting
his heart, caused him to overflow with confidence and
generosity. Slavery was still in force on his estate,
and all the marvels of Roswald had been constructed
at little cost by his serfs ; but he covered the yoke of
his subjects with flowers and feasting. He made
them forget the necessary by lavishing upon them the
superfluous, and convinced that pleasure is happiness,
he caused them to amuse themselves so much that
they never thought of being free.

CONSUELO. 271

The Prussian officer (for there really was but one ;
the other seemed only his shadow) appeared at first a
little astonished, perhaps a little offended, at the count's
lack of ceremony, and he had assumed a somewhat
reserved politeness, when the count said to him, —

" Captain, I beg you to be at your ease, and to do
here as if you were at home. I know that you must
be accustomed to the rigid severity of the great Fred-
erick's army, which I think admirable in its place ; but
here you are in the country, and if one does not amuse
one's self in the country, why does he come here ? I
see that you are well-bred and well-mannered per-
sons. You are certainly not officers of the King of
Prussia without having given proofs of military learn-
ing and distinguished bravery. I therefore consider
you guests whose presence honors my house ; pray
make use of it without hesitation, and remain as long
as you find it agreeable."

The officer immediately accepted the situation like
a sensible man, and after thanking his host in the
same tone, began to devote himself to the champagne,
which nevertheless did not cause him to lose an atom
of his self-possession, and to attack an excellent pate,
concerning which he made and asked gastronomic
questions which gave but a poor idea of him to the
abstemious Consuelo. She was nevertheless struck
by the fire of his look ; but this fire astonished with-
out charming her. She found in it something haughty,
searching and distrustful, which did not appeal to her
heart.

272 CONSUELO,

While breakfasting, the officer informed the count
that he was named Baron von Kreutz ; that he was a
native of Silesia, whither he had just been sent for
remounts for the cavalry ; that being at Neisse, he
had not been able to resist the desire to see the
famous palace and gardens of Roswald ; that conse-
quently he had crossed the frontier that morning with
his lieutenant, not without profiting by the opportu-
nity to make some purchases of horses. He even
offered the count to visit his stables, if he had any
animals to sell. He was travelling on horseback, and
would return that evening.

" I cannot allow you to leave so soon," said the
count ; " I have no horses to sell you at present. I have
not even enough for the improvements which I wish
to make in my gardens. But I hope to make a better
bargain by enjoying your society as long as possible."

" But we heard, when we arrived, that you were
hourly expecting Countess Hoditz, and as we do not
wish to be a burden to you, we will retire as soon as
we heai of her arrival."

" I only expect the Countess Margravine to-mor-
row," replied the count ; '^ she will arrive here with
her daughter, the Princess of Culmbach. For you
are no doubt aware, gentlemen, that I have had the
honor to make a noble alliance " —

"With the Dowager Margravine, of Baireuth," said
Baron von Kreutz, somewhat abruptly,, and without
appearing as much dazzled by this title as the count
expected.

CONSUELO, 273

"She is the aunt of the King of Prussia!" he
added, with some emphasis.

"Yes, yes, I know," returned the Prussian officer,
taking a large pinch of snuff.

" And, as she is an admirably gracious and affable
lady," continued the count, " I have no doubt that
she will have infinite pleasure in receiving and enter-
taining brave servants of the king, her nephew."

" We should be very sensible of so great an honor,"
said the baron smiling ; " but we shall not have time
to enjoy it. Our duty calls us imperatively to our
post, and we take leave of your excellency this even-
ing. Meanwhile, we should be very happy to admire
this beautiful residence. The king, our master, has
not one which can be compared to it."

This compliment recovered for the Prussian all the
Moravian lord's good-will. They rose from table.
Porpora, who cared less for the walk than for the re-
hearsal, wished to be excused from it.

" Not at all," said the count ; " we shall have the walk
and the rehearsal at the same time ; you will see, master."

He offered his arm to Consuelo, and, going in ad-
vance, said, —

" Pardon me, gentlemen, if I take possession of the
only lady now here ; it is the right of the lord of the
manor. Have the goodness to follow me ; I will be
your guide."

" May I venture to ask you, sir," said the Baron
von Kreutz, speaking to Porpora for the first time,
"who that amiable lady is? "

274 CONSUELO.

" Sir," replied Porpora, who was out of temper, " I
am an Italian ; I understand German badly and
French still worse."

The baron, who had, until then, always spoken
French to the count, according to the custom of that
time with fashionable people, repeated his question in
Italian.

" That amiable lady, who has not yet spoken a word
in your presence," said Porpora, dryly, " is neither
margravine, dowager, princess, baroness nor countess ;
she is an Italian singer who possesses a certain
talent."

" I am all the more desirous of becoming ac-
quainted with her and knowing her name," repHed
the baron, smiling at the maestro's curtness.

" She is Porporina, my pupil," said Porpora.

*' She is a very accomplished person, they say," re-
plied the other, " and impatiently awaited at Berlin.
Since she is your pupil, I see that it is to the illustrious
Master Porpora that I have the honor of speaking."

^* At your service," said Porpora, in a reserved tone,
returning to his head the hat which he had just lifted
in reply to Baron von Kreutz's low bow.

The latter, seeing him so uncommunicative, allowed
him to advance and remained behind with his lieuten-
ant. Porpora, who had eyes even in the back of his
head, saw that they were laughing together as they
looked at him and spoke of him in their language.
He was all the more ill-disposed to them, and did not
even glance at them during the whole walk.

CONSUELO. 275

CHAPTER XIX.

They descended a steep incline, at the bottom of
which they found a miniature river, which had been a
limpid, turbulent brook ; but as it was necessary to make
it navigable, the count had levelled its bed, diminished
its fall, neatly trimmed its banks and clouded its clear
waters by recent labors. The workmen were still
busy removing from it a few rocks which had been
carried there during the winter, giving it some re-
maining expression which they were in haste to
remove. A gondola was awaiting the party, a real
gondola which the count had brought from Venice,
and which caused Consuelo's heart to beat as it re-
called to her a thousand sweet and bitter memories.
They embarked ; the gondoliers also were real Vene-
tians, speaking their dialect ; they had been brought
with the boat, as in our day negroes are brought with
a giraffe. Count Hoditz, who had travelled a great
deal, fancied that he spoke all languages ; but although
he did it with great confidence, and gave his orders in
a loud voice and an emphatic tone to the gondoliers,
they would have had difficulty in understanding him if
Consuelo had not served as interpreter. They were
commanded to sing the songs of Tasso \ but the poor
wretches, hoarse from the northern cold, confused
and out of their element, gave the Prussians a poor

276 CONSUELO,

example of their skill. Consuelo was obliged to
prompt them at every verse, and to promise to re-
hearse with them the selection which they were to
sing on the morrow for the margravine.

When they had rowed for a quarter of an hour in a
space which they could have crossed in three minutes,
but where the poor brook had been tortured into a
thousand deceptive windings, they reached the open
sea. It was a moderately large sheet of water upon
which they debouched between clumps of cypress and
firs, and the unexpected view of it was really agree-
able. But they had not time to admire it. They
were obliged to embark upon a miniature ship, from
which nothing was wanting ; masts, sails, and ropes, it
was a perfect model of a vessel with all its rigging,
and which the excessive number of sailors and
passengers came near sinking. Porpora was cold in
it. The carpets were very damp, and I believe that in
spite of the careful examination which the count had
made of everything upon his arrival the day before,
the ship leaked badly. Nobody was comfortable in it
except the count who, thanks to his position, never
cared for the little annoyances attaching to his pleas-
ures, and Consuelo, who was beginning to be greatly
amused by the folly of her host. A fleet proportioned
to this flag-ship came to place itself under his orders,
and performed manoeuvres which the count, armed
with a speaking-trumpet and erect upon the quarter-
deck, directed very seriously, becoming angry when
matters did not go to suit him, and causing them to

COXSUELO. 277

begin the rehearsal over again. Finally they sailed in
line of battle to the sound of an abominably false
brass band, which completely exasperated Porpora.

" I can forgive being frozen and catching cold, but
to have one's ears flayed in this way is too much ! '^

'^ Make sail for the Peloponnesus ! " cried the
count, and they all scudded toward a shore crowned
with small buildings imitating Greek temples and
ancient tombs.

They sailed towards a little harbor concealed by
rocks, and when a few yards off were received by a
discharge of shots. Two men fell dead upon the
deck, and a very light cabin-boy, who was in the
rigging, uttered a great cry, let himself slide skilfully
down, and rolled into the midst of the company,
screaming that he was wounded, and holding his
hands to his head, which was supposed to be shattered
by a ball.

" Here," said the count to Consuelo, " I need you
for a little rehearsal with my crew. Will you have the
goodness to impersonate the margravine for a moment,
and command this dying boy, as well as those two
dead men, who, by the way, fell very awkwardly, to
arise, be cured instantly, take their arms and defend
her highness against the insolent pirates concealed
in this ambuscade?"

Consuelo hastened to assume the role of the mar-
gravine, and played it with much more nobleness and
natural grace than Madame Iloditz would have done.
The dead and dying rose to their knees and kissed her

278 CONSUELO.

hand. At this point they were enjoined by the count
not really to touch with their vassal mouths the noble
hand of her highness, but to kiss their own hands,
pretending to place their lips to hers. Then the dead
and dying rushed to arms with great demonstrations of
enthusiasm ; the little mountebank who played the
role of cabin-boy climbed up his mast again like
a cat and fired a light carbine at the band of pirates.
The squadron closed about the new Cleopatra, and
the little cannons made a frightful noise.

Consuelo, warned by the count, who did not wish
to cause her a serious fright, had not been deceived
by the somewhat odd commencement of this comedy.
But the two Prussian officers, to whom he had not
considered it necessary to extend the same courtesy,
seeing two men fall at the first fire, had pressed
together, turning pale. He who said nothing had
seemed afraid for his captain, and the emotion of the
latter had not escaped the calmly scrutinizing eye of
Consuelo. It was not fear, however, which she saw
upon his face, but, on the contrary, a kind of indig-
nation, of anger, even, as if the jest had offended him
personally, and had appeared to him an insult to his
dignity as a Prussian and an officer. Hoditz paid no
attention to it, and when the combat was at its height,
the captain and his lieutenant shouted with laughter,
and took the joke in excellent part. They even drew
their swords and fought with the air, thus sharing in
the scene.

The pirates, embarked in light boats, clad in Greek

CONSUELO. 279

costumes and armed with musketoons and pistols
loaded with powder, had come out of their pretty
Httle reefs, and were fighting hke Hons. They were
allowed to come alongside, when they were killed in
numbers, that the good margravine might have the
pleasure of resuscitating them. The only cruelty
committed was to cause some of them to fail into the
sea. The water of the basin was very cold, and Con-
suelo pitied them, until she saw that they enjoyed it,
and took pride in showing their mountain companions
that they were good swimmers.

When Cleopatra's fleet (for the ship which was to
carry the margravine really bore that pompous name)
had been victorious, it led the pirate flotilla captive
in its train, and went away to the sound of triumphal
music (fit to raise the devil, Porporasaid) to explore
the shores of Greece. They next drew near an un-
known isle, on which they saw earthen huts and
exotic trees extremely well acclimated or imitated ;
for one could never tell what to believe in this re-
spect, the true and the false being mingled every-
where. To the banks of this isle pirogues were
moored. The aborigines of the country sprang into
them with very savage cries and came to meet the
fleet, bearing strange flowers and fruits recently cut
in the hot-houses of the residence. These savages
were rough, tattooed, hairy, more like devils than
men. The costumes were not too appropriate.
Some were crowned with feathers, like Peruvians,
others bundled up in furs, like Esquimaux ; but these

28o CONSUELO.

things were ndt too closely criticised ; so long as
they were sufficiently ugly and shaggy, they were
taken for cannibals at the very least.

These good people made many faces, and their
chief, who was a sort of giant, with a false beard
which fell to his waist, delivered an address which
Count Hoditz had taken the trouble to compose him-
self in the tongue of the savages. It was a collection
of sonorous and guttural syllables, flung together to
represent a grotesque and barbarous jargon.

The count, having caused the savage to recite his
tirade without a fault, undertook himself to translate
this fine harangue to Consuelo, who was still playing
the part of the margravine in the absence of the
genuine one.

"This speech means, madam,'* he said, imitating
the salaams of the savage king, " that these cannibals,
whose custom it is to devour all strangers who land
upon their isle, suddenly touched and tamed by the
magic effect of your charms, have come to lay at
your feet the homage of their ferocity, and to offer
you the royalty of this unknown country. Deign to
land upon it without fear, and although it is barren
and uncultivated, marvels of civilization will spring up
under your feet."

They landed on the isle amid the songs and dances
of the young savages. Strange animals, supposed to
be ferocious, and lay-figures, which knelt suddenly by
means of a spring, greeted Consuelo upon the shore.
Then, with the aid of cords, the newly planted trees

CONSUELO. 281

and bushes fell, the rocks of card -board crumbled,
and one saw little houses, decorated with flowers and
leaves; shepherdesses leading real flocks (Hoditz
had no lack of them) ; villagers dressed in the latest
fashion at the opera, though not very clean when seen
near by ; even tame goats and does came to pay
homage to the new sovereign.

"It is here," said the count to Consuelo, "that
you will have a role to play before her highness to-
morrow. You will be provided with the costume of
a pagan goddess, covered with flowers and ribbons,
and you wall wait in this grotto \ the margravine will
enter, and you will sing the cantata which I have in
my pocket, to make over to her your rights as a
divinity, since there can be only one goddess where
she deigns to appear."

"Let us see the cantata," said Consuelo, taking
the manuscript of which Hoditz was the composer.

It was not very difficult to read and sing this sim-
ple ballad at sight ; words and music were all of a
piece. It was only necessary to learn it by heart.
Two violins, a harp and a flute concealed in the
depths of the cavern accompanied her all wrong.
Porpora made them repeat it, and in a quarter of an
hour everything went well. It was not the only role
which Consuelo had to take during the fete, nor the
only cantata that Hoditz had in his pocket. Happily,
his compositions were short ; it would not do to weary
her highness with too much music.

They sailed from the savage islands and landed

283 CONSUELO.

upon a Chinese shore ; imitation porcelain towers,
kiosques, stunted gardens, little bridges, junks and
tea plantations, — nothing was lacking. The manda-
rins and learned men, well enough dressed, came to
make a Chinese address to the margravine ; and Con-
suelo, who, during the trip, was to change her costume
in the hold of one of the ships and appear as a man-
darin's daughter, was to sing some Chinese verses
and music, also of Count Hoditz's manufacture : —

'* Ping, pang, tiong,
Hi, hang, hong."

Such was the refrain, which was supposed to mean,
thanks to the power of abbreviation possessed by this
marvellous language, —

" Beauteous margravine, great princess, idol of all
hearts, reign forever over your happy husband and
your merry empire of Roswald in Moravia."

On leaving China, they entered very rich palanquins,
and on the shoulders of Chinese and savage slaves
ascended a little mountain, upon the summit of which
they found the city of Lilliput. Houses, forests,
lakes, mountains, — all reached only to the knee or the
ankle, and it was necessary to stoop in order to see,
inside the houses, the furniture and household arti-
cles, which were in proportion to everything else.
Marionettes danced upon the public place to the
sound of " mirlitons," jew's-harps, and tambourines.
The persons who worked them and who produced this
Lilliputian music were beneath the earth, in cellars
constructed especially for the purpose.

CONSUELO. 283

When they descended from the mountains of Lilli-
put, they found a desert a hundred yards across, cov-
ered with enormous rocks and sturdy trees, left to
their natural growth. It was the only spot which the
count had not mutilated and spoiled. He had been
content to leave it as he had found it.

*' I was troubled for a long while," he said to his
guests, '' to tell how to employ this steep gorge. I
did not know how to rid it of these masses of rocks,
nor what arrangement to give these superb but disor-
derly trees. Suddenly it occurred to me to call this
place a desert, chaos ; and I thought that the contrast
would not be disagreeable, especially as on leaving
these horrors of nature one returns to terraces admi-
rably ordered and decorated. To complete the illu-
sion, you will see what a happy invention I have placed
here."

As he said this, the count went round a large rock
which stood in the way (for of course he had con-
structed a trim gravel-path through this horrible
desert), and Consuelo found herself at the entrance
to an hermitage hewn in the rock and surmounted
by a great wooden cross. The anchorite of the
Thebais came out of it ; he was a good peasant whose
long, white, false beard contrasted with a fresh face,
decked with the colors of youth. He delivered a
fine sermon, the barbarisms of which his master cor-
rected, gave his benediction, and offered roots and
milk to Consuelo in a wooden bowl.

" I think your hermit somewhat young," said Baron

284 CONSUELO,

von Kreutz ; " you might have placed a real old man
here."

" It would not have pleased the margravine," said
Hoditz, simply. " She says, very properly, that old
age is not enlivening, and that at a fete one must see
none but young actors."

I will spare the reader the rest of the promenade.
There would be no end to it if I were to describe the
different countries, the druidical altars, the Indian
pagodas, the covered roads and canals, the virgin for-
ests, grottos in which they saw the mysteries of the
Passion carved in the rock, artificial caverns with ball-
rooms, Elysian fields, cascades, naiads, serenades and
the six thousand jets of water which Porpora afterwards
averred that he had been obliged to " swallow." There
were a thousand other attractions, the details of which
have been transmitted to us with admiration by the
memoirs of the time, — a half-dark grotto into which
you ran, and at the end of which a mirror, by reflecting
your figure in an uncertain light, must inevitably cause
you a great fright ; a convent in which you were forced,
under pain of forever losing your liberty, to pronounce
vows of eternal submission to the margravine and adora-
tion of her ; a raining tree which, by means of a pump
concealed in its branches, drenched you with ink,
blood or rose-water, as they wished to please or annoy
you ; a thousand secrets, in short, charming, inge-
nious and, above all, costly, which Porpora had the
brutality to think unsupportable, stupid and scanda-
lous. Night alone put an end to this promenade

CONSUELO. 285

around the world, in which, sometimes on horseback,
sometimes in a litter, on donkeys, in carriages, or in
boats, they had travelled some three leagues.

Hardened against cold and fatigue, the two Prus-
sian officers, while laughing at what was too childish
in the amusements and surprises of Roswald, had not
been so much struck as Consuelo by the absurdity of
this marvellous residence. She was a child of nature,
born in the country, accustomed from the time her
eyes first opened to look at the works of God
through neither a gauze curtain nor a spyglass ; but
Baron von Kreutz, though he was not precisely an
ordinary member of that aristocracy accustomed to
the fashionable draperies and ornaments, was a man
of his own time and rank. He did not dislike grottos,
hermitages and symbols. In short, he was good-
naturedly amused, showed much intelligence in con-
versation and said to his acolyte, who respectfully
pitied him when they entered the dining-room for
the weariness of such an infliction, —

'^ I, bored ? Not in the least. I have taken ex-
ercise, gained an appetite, seen a thousand follies and
rested from serious matters. I have lost neither my
time nor my trouble."

They were surprised to find in the dining-room
only a circle of chairs about an empty space. The
count, having begged his guests to be seated, ordered
his lackeys to serve supper.

'' Alas, my lord ! " replied the one whose duty it
was to reply, **we had nothing worthy of being

2S6 CONSUELO.

offered so honorable a company, and we have not
even set the table.''

" This is pleasant 1 " cried the amphitryon, with
feigned anger ; and when this comedy had lasted a
few minutes, he said, " Very well ; since men refuse
us supper, I invoke hell, and command Pluto to send
me one worthy of my guests."

As he said this, he stamped thrice, and the floor
sliding apart, they saw fragrant flames blaze up ;
then, to the sound of joyous and strange music, a
magnificently served table took its place beneath the
elbows of the guests.

"That is not bad," said the count, raising the
cloth, and speaking under the table. " Only, I am
greatly astonished since Master Pluto knows very well
that there is no water in my house to drink, that he
has not sent me a single jug of it."

" Count Hoditz," replied, from the depths of the
abyss, a hoarse voice, worthy of Tartarus, " water is
very scarce in hell ; nearly all our rivers are dry
since the eyes of her highness the margravine have
burned to the very bowels of the earth ; still, if you
insist, we will send a Danaid to the banks of the
Styx to see if she can find any."

" Let her make haste," replied the count, " and
be careful to give her a cask without a hole in it."

At the same instant there sprang from a jasper
bowl in the centre of the table a jet of spring- water,
which during all the supper fell upon itself like a sheaf
of diamonds in the light of the candles. The epergne

CONSUELO, 287

was a masterpiece of richness and bad taste, and the
water of the Styx and the infernal supper furnished
the count with materials for a thousand puns, allu-
sions and cock-and-bull stories which were poor
enough, but which they pardoned because of his
childish simplicity. The excellent repast served by
young satyrs and more or less charming nymphs
greatly enlivened Baron von Kreutz. He paid but
scant attention, however, to the fair slaves of his
amphitryon ; these poor peasant girls were at once
the servants, mistresses, chorus-singers and actresses
of their lord. He was their teacher of deportment,
dancing, singing and declamation. Consuelo had had
an example at Passau of his manner of dealing with
them, and when she thought of the glorious lot which
he then offered her, she could not help admiring the
coolness with which he now treated her, without
being either surprised or embarrassed by her con-
tempt. She knew very well that on the morrow mat-
ters would change with the arrival of the margravine ;
that she would dine in her room with her master, and
not have the honor of being admitted to her high-
ness's table. She was but little disturbed by it,
although she was ignorant of a circumstance which
would have amused her greatly at that moment ;
namely, that she was supping with an infinitely more
illustrious person, who would for nothing in the world
have supped on the morrow with the margravine.
Baron von Kreutz, smiling somewhat coldly at the
appearance of the nymphs of the household, bestowed

288 CONSUELO.

a little more attention upon Consuelo when, after induc-
ing her to break her silence, he led her to speak of
music. He was a cultivated and passionate lover of that
divine art ; at least, he spoke of it with a superiority
which, no less than the supper and the warmth of the
apartment, mollified Porpora's crabbed temper.

"It would be a blessing," he said at last to the
baron who, without naming him, had been delicately
praising his style, " if the king whom we are going to
try to amuse were as good a judge as you."

" They say," said the baron, " that my sovereign
is sufficiently enlightened on this subject, and that he
is really fond of the fine arts."

"Are you very sure, baron?" replied the maestro,
who could never converse without contradicting every-
body about everything. " I hardly dare hope it.
Kings are always first in everything to their subjects ;
but it often happens that their subjects know more
than they do."

" In war, as in science and engineering, the King of
Prussia knows more than any of us," said the lieutenant
zealously ; " and as for music, it is very certain " —

"That you know nothing about it, nor I either,"
interrupted Captain von Kreutz, dryly ; " Master Por-
pora must himself judge in this respect."

" As for me," went on the master, " royal dignity
has never intimidated me in the matter of music;
and when I had the honor of giving lessons to the
P^lectoral Princess of Saxony, I did not pass over her
false notes more than those of any one else."

CONSUELO. 289

" What? " said the baron, looking at his companion
with a sarcastic expression, *' do crowned heads ever
play false notes? "

"Just like simple mortals, sir," repHed Porpora.
" Still, I ought to say that the electoral princess did
not make them long with me, and that she had a
rare intelligence to second me."

" So you would pardon our Fritz a few false notes,
if he had the impertinence to make them?"

" On condition that he corrected himself of the
fault."

" But you would not scold him ? " said Count
Hoditz laughing.

" Certainly I would," replied the old professor,
whom a little champagne rendered communicative
and boastful.

Consuelo had been duly warned by the canon that
Prussia was a great police department, in which the
least words, pronounced in a whisper at the frontier,
reached Frederick's study in a few moments, by a
series of mysterious and faithful echoes ; and that one
must never say to a Prussian, especially an officer,
" How do you do? " without weighing every syllable,
and turning, as they say to little children, one's
tongue seven times in his mouth. She was there-
fore not pleased to see her master give way to his
sarcastic humor, and endeavored to repair his impru-
dence by a little policy.

" Even if the King of Prussia were not the first
musician of his time," she said, " he might disdain

1

290 CONSUELO.

an art which is certainly very useless compared with
the others which he knows."

But she was ignorant that Frederick was not less
proud of being a great flutist than of being a great
captain and a great philosopher. Baron von Kreutz
declared that his majesty had considered music an
art worthy to be studied, and that he had probably
devoted serious attention and labor to it.

"Bah!" said Porpora, who was becoming more
and more animated, " attention and labor can reveal
nothing in art to those on whom heaven has not
bestowed innate talent. The genius of music is not
within reach of every fortune, and it is easier to win
battles and pension men of letters than to steal the
sacred fire from the muses. Baron Frederick von
Trenck told us that his Prussian majesty, when he lost
the time, blamed his courtiers ; but it will not be so
with me."

" Baron Frederick von Trenck said that? " replied
Baron von Kreutz, whose eyes glittered with sudden
and impetuous anger. " Well," he said, calming
himself quickly by an effort of will, and speaking in
a tone of indifference, " the poor devil must have lost
the desire to jest, for he is shut up in the fortress of
Glatz for the rest of his days."

" Really? " cried Porpora ; " what has he done ? "

" That is a State secret," replied the baron ; " but
there is every reason to believe that he has betrayed
his master's confidence."

" Yes," added the lieutenant, " by selling to Austria

CONS U EL O. 291

the plans of the fortifications of Prussia, his father-
land."

" Oh, it is impossible ! " said Consuelo, who had
turned pale, and who, though more and more watch-
ful over her countenance and words, still could not
restrain this exclamation of pain.

" It is impossible and it is false ! " cried Porpora
indignantly ; " those who made the King of Prussia
believe it lied in their throats ! "

" I presume that you do not mean to give us the
lie indirectly?" said the lieutenant, turning pale in
his turn.

" It would need a very awkward susceptibility to
take it thus," replied Baron von Kreutz, casting a hard
and imperious glance at his companion. " What af-
fair is it of yours, and what difference does it make to
us that Master Porpora shows such warmth in his
friendship for this young man?"

" Yes, I would show it, even in the presence of the
king himself," said Porpora. " I would say to the
king that they have deceived him, that it is very wrong
of him to believe it, that Frederick von Trenck is a
worthy, noble young man, incapable of an infamy.*'

" I think, my master," interrupted Consuelo, whom
the face of the captain rendered more and more
uneasy, " that you would be fasting when you had the
honor to approach the King of Prussia ; and I know
you too well not to be sure that you would speak to
him of nothing foreign to music " —

" The young lady seems to me very prudent," said

292 CONSUELO,

the baron ; " yet it appears that she was very inti-
mate in Vienna with this same young Baron von
Trenck."

"I, sir?" replied Consuelo, with admirably acted
indifference. " I hardly knew him."

" But," returned the baron with a penetrating look,
" suppose the king were to ask you, by some strange
chance, what you thought of this treason? "

"Baron," said Consuelo, meeting his inquisitorial
look with great calmness and modesty, " I should
reply to him that I do not believe in the treason of
any one, not being able to understand what it is to
betray."

"That is a noble speech, signora," said the baron,
whose face cleared suddenly, " and you said it with the
accent of a noble soul."

He changed the subject, and charmed them all by
the grace and power of his mind. During the rest of
the supper, he had, when speaking to Consuelo, an
expression of goodness and confidence which she had
not before observed in him.

CONSUELO, 293

CHAPTER XX.

At the end of the dessert, a spectre, clad all in
white and veiled, came to seek the guests, saying to
them, "Follow me ! " Consuelo, still condemned to
the role of the margravine for the rehearsal of this
new scene, rose first, and, followed by the others,
mounted the great staircase of the castle, the door to
which opened at the back of the dining-room. The
spectre which led them opened another large door at
the top of this staircase, and they found themselves in
the darkness of a long antique corridor, at the end of
which only could they see a faint light. They went in
that direction accompanied by slow, solemn and mys-
terious music, which was supposed to be performed by
inhabitants of the invisible world.

" Egad ! " said Porpora, ironically, but in an enthu-
siastic tone, ** the count refuses us nothing ! We have
heard to-day Turkish, nautical, savage, Chinese, Lilli-
putian and all sorts of extraordinary music ; but here
is that which surpasses them all, and it can well be said
that it is music of another world."

"And this is not all ! " replied the count, enchanted
with this praise.

" One may expect anything from your excellency,"
said Baron von Kreutz, with the same irony as the pro-
fessor ; " yet after this, I really do not know what we
can hope more extraordinary."

294 CONSUELO.

At the end of the corridor the spectre struck a kind
of gong which gave forth a mournful sound, and a
large curtain parted and displayed the theatre, lighted
and decorated as it would be on the morrow.

The curtain rose ; the scene represented nothing
more nor less than Olympus. The goddesses were
striving for the heart of the shepherd Paris, and the
contest of the three principal divinities formed the
substance of the piece. It was written in Italian,
which caused Porpora to say in an undertone to
Consuelo, —

" The savage, Chinese, and Lilliputian tongues were
nothing; now we have Iroquois.'*

Words and music were both the count's workman-
ship. The actors and actresses were well worthy of
their roles. After half an hour of metaphors and
fanciful conceits concerning the absence of a divinity
more charming and more powerful than all the others,
who disdained to contest for the prize of beauty,
Paris having decided to make Venus triumph, she
took the apple and descending from the stage by a
set of steps, came to lay it at the feet of the margra-
vine, declaring herself unworthy to keep it, and apolo-
gizing for having striven for it in her presence. It
was Consuelo who was to play this role of Venus, and
as it was the most important, — because she had to
sing an elaborate cavatina at the end, — Count Hoditz,
who did not dare to intrust the rehearsal of it to any
of his choristers, resolved to fill it himself, as much to
carry the affair through as to enable Consuelo to per-

CONSUELO. 295

ceive the spirit, the intention, the delicate points and
the beauties of the part. He was so grotesque while
playing Venus and singing with emphasis the plati-
tudes, stolen from all the most fashionable operas and
badly stitched together, of which he had made his
so-called score, that no one could remain serious. He
was too much occupied in scolding his troupe, and
too much excited by the divine expression which he
gave his acting and singing, to notice the smiles of
the audience. They applauded him boisterously, and
Porpora, who had taken the head of the orchestra,
stealthily stopping his ears from time to time, declared
that everything was sublime, — poem, score, voices,
instruments, and the provisional Venus above all.

It was arranged that he and Consuelo should atten-
tively study this masterpiece that evening and the
next morning. It was neither long nor difficult to
learn, and they undertook to be worthy of the piece
and the company the next evening. Then they
visited the ball-room, which was not yet ready,
because the dances were only to take place two days
later, the fete being designed to last two whole days,
and to offer an uninterrupted series of varied amuse-
ments.

It was ten o'clock at night. The weather was clear
and the moon magnificent. The Prussian officers
had persisted in crossing the frontier that evening,
alleging that their orders did not allow them to pass
the night in a foreign country. The count was obliged
to yield, and having given directions for their horses

296 CONSUELO.

to be prepared, he carried them off to drink the
stirrup cup ; that is to say, to partake of coffee and
excellent liqueurs in an elegant boudoir, whither
Consuelo did not see fit to accompany them. She
therefore took leave of them, and having cautioned
Porpora in an undertone to keep a little more on his
guard than he had done during supper, she started to
go to her room, which was in another wing of the
castle.

But she soon lost her way in the windings of this
vast labyrinth, and found herself in a kind of cloister,
where a gust of wind extinguished her candle. Fear-
ing to go more and more astray, and to fall through
one of the trap-doors with which the count had filled
the manor, she resolved to grope her way back until
she reached the lighted part of the building. In the
confusion of the great preparations for the festival,
the comfort of this rich dwelling had been entirely
neglected. There were nymphs, ghosts, gods, her-
mits, sport and laughter, but not a servant from whom
to procure a candle, not a being in his sober senses
of whom to obtain a direction.

She saw, however, a person coming towards her
who seemed to be walking carefully, and purposely
gliding along in the shadows, which did not inspire
her with the confidence to call out and name herself,
the less because the heavy step and loud breathing
were those of a man. She went on somewhat dis-
turbed, edging along the wall, when she heard a door
open not far from her, and the moonlight, entering

CONSUELO. 297

through it, fell upon the tall figure and brilliant cos-
tume of Karl. She hastened to call him,

*' Is it you, signora? " he said in a troubled voice. "
" Ah ! for hours I have been seeking an instant to
speak to you, and I have found it too late, perhaps."

" What do you wish to say to me, good Karl, and
why this agitation which I see?"

^' Come out of the corridor, signora ; I will speak
to you in some entirely lonely spot, where I hope no
one will be able to hear us."

Consuelo followed Karl, and found herself on the
terrace formed by a turret which joined the side of
the building.

*' Signora," said the deserter cautiously (having
come that morning to Roswald for the first time, he
hardly knew the inmates better than Consuelo), "have
you said anything to-day which can expose you to the
dislike or distrust of the King of Prussia, and of which
you would repent in Berlin, if the king were actually
informed of it? "

" No, Karl ; I have said nothing of the sort. I
know that it is dangerous to converse with any Prus-
sian whom one does not know, and, so far as I am
concerned, I watched all my words."

" Ah ! I am relieved to hear that ; I was very
uneasy. I approached you two or three times on the
ship, when you were sailing on the lake. I was one
of the pirates who pretended to board, but I was dis-
guised, and you did not know me. It was in vain
that I looked at you and made signs to you ; you paid

298 CONSUELO.

no attention, and I could not get a word with you.
This officer was ahvays beside you. As long as you
were on the lake, he never left you by a foot. One
would have said that he divined that you were his
talisman, and that he hid behind you, in case a ball
should have slipped accidentally into one of our harm-
less guns."

" What do you mean, Karl ? I cannot understand
you. Who is this officer? I do not know him."

" I have no need to tell you. You will soon know
him, since you are going to Berlin."
"Why keep it secret from me now? "
" It is a terrible secret, and I need to keep it an
hour longer."

" You seem singularly agitated, Karl ; what is going
on within you? "

" Oh, great things ! Hell is burning in my heart ! "
" Hell ! One would think that you had evil de-
signs."

"Perhaps!"

" In that case, I wish you to speak ; you have no
right to be silent with me, Karl. You promised me a
devotion and submission without bounds."

" Ah, signora, why do you speak thus ? It is true
that I owe you more than life, for you did what was
needful to preserve my wife and child for me ; but
they were condemned, they perished, — and their
death must be avenged ! "

" Karl, in the name of your wife and child, who are
praying for you in heaven, I command you to speak.

CONSUELO. 299

You are thinking of some mad action ; you wish to
be revenged? The sight of these Prussians puts you
beside yourself ? "

*' It drives me mad ; it makes me furious. But no,
I am cahn. I am a good man. It is heaven, sig-
nora, not hell, which impels me. Come ! the hour
draws near. Farewell, signora ; it is probable that I
shall never see you again, and I ask you, since you
are to pass through Prague, to pay for a mass for me
in the chapel of St. John Nepomuck, one of the
greatest patrons of Bohemia."

" Karl, you shall speak, you shall confess the crim-
inal ideas which are tormenting you, or I will never
pray for you, but call down upon you, on the con-
trary, the curse of your wife and your little girl, who
are angels in the bosom of the merciful Jesus. How
do you expect to be pardoned in heaven if you do
not pardon upon earth? I see that you have a car-
bine under your cloak, and that you are lying in wait
here for these Prussians."

'* No, not here," said Karl, doubtful and trembling.
" I do not wish to shed blood in my master's house,
nor beneath your eyes, my good, holy maiden ; but
down below there is a hollow road in the mountain
which I know well already, for I was there this morn-
ing when they came through it. I was there by acci-
dent, however. I was not armed, and besides, I did
not recognize him at once. But in a few moments he
will return that way, and I shall be there. I can
quickly reach it by the path through the park, and I

300 CONSUELO.

shall be ahead of him, though he is well mounted.
And as you say, signora, I have a carbine, — a good
carbine, — and in it there is a good ball for his heart.
It has been there for some time ; for I was not jest-
ing when I lay in ambush, disguised as a pirate. I
thought the occasion a good one, and I aimed at him
a dozen times ; but you were there, always there, and
I did not fire. But soon you will not be there ; he
will not be able to hide behind you like a coward —
for he is a coward, I know it. I saw him grow pale
and turn his back to the enemy one day when he was
making us advance furiously against my compatriots,
my brothers, the Bohemians. Ah, what a horror !
For I am a Bohemian in blood and heart, and these
never change. But if I am a poor Bohemian peasant,
who learned in my forest only how to handle an axe,
he made of me a Prussian soldier, and, thanks to his
corporals, I know how to aim straight with a gun."

" Karl, Karl, be silent ; you are mad 1 You do not
know this man, I am certain. He is called Baron
von Kreutz ; I am sure that you did not know his
name, and mistook him for some one else. He is not
a recruiter; he has done you no harm."

" No, signora, he is not Baron von Kreutz, and I
know him well. I have seen him at parade more
than a hundred times. He is the grand recruiter, the
grand master of the robbers of men and destroyers of
families ; he is the great scourge of Bohemia ; he is
my enemy. He is the enemy of our church, our re-
ligion and all our saints ; it is he who profaned, by

CONSUELO. 301

his sacrilegious laughter, the statue of St. John Nepo-
muck, on the bridge of Prague. It is he who stole,
from the castle at Prague the drum made of the skin
of John Ziska, who was a great warrior in his day, and
whose skin was the safeguard, defence and honor of
the country. Oh, no ! I am not mistaken, and I
know the man well ! Besides, St. Wenceslas appeared
to me just now as I was saying my prayers in the
chapel ; I saw him as I see you, signora, and he said
to me : ' It is he ; strike him to the heart ! ^ I had
sworn it to the Holy Virgin on the tomb of my wife,
and I must keep my oath. Ah, see, signora ! there
is his horse coming to the steps ; it is what I was
waiting for. I must go to my post. Pray for me,
for sooner or later I shall pay for this with my life ;
but it matters little, if God saves my soul."

** Karl ! " cried Consuelo, animated by extraordi-
nary strength, " I thought you generous, tender and
pious j but I see that you are impious, a coward and
a villain. Whoever this man may be whom you wish
to assassinate, I forbid you to follow him or to do him
any harm. It is the devil who took the form of a
saint to lead you astray, and God allowed you to fall
into this snare to punish you for making a sacrilegious
oath upon the tomb of your wife. You are cowardly
and ungrateful, I tell you, for you do not remember
that your master. Count Hoditz, who has loaded you
with benefits, will be accused of your crime, and will
pay for it with his head, — he, so good, so kind, so
tender towards you. Go hide yourself in some cellar.

303 CONSUELO.

for you are not worthy to see the day, Karl. Do
penance for having such a thought ! Look ! I see
your wife at this moment, weeping beside you, and
endeavoring to restrain your good angel, who is ready
to abandon you to the spirit of evil."

'^ My wife ! my wife ! " cried Karl, distracted and
conquered. " I do not see her. My wife, if you are
there, speak to me, let me see you once more and
die ! '»

" You cannot see her. Crime is in your heart and
darkness upon your eyes. Fall upon your knees,
Karl ; you may yet gain pardon. Give me that gun,
which fouls your hands, and pray."

As she said this, Consuelo took the carbine, which
was not withheld from her, and hastened to remove it
from Karl's sight, while he fell upon his knees and
burst into tears. She left the terrace to conceal this
weapon hastily in some other spot. She was ex-
hausted by the eifort which she had just made to
control the imagination of the fanatic by calling up
the chimeras which governed it. Time pressed, and
it was not the moment to give him a course of more
earthly and rational philosophy. She had said what
came into her mind, inspired perhaps by something
sympathetic in the excitement of the unfortunate
creature, whom she wished to save at every cost from
an act of madness, and whom she loaded with a
feigned indignation, while pitying him for a derange-
ment which he could not control.

She was in haste to remove the fotal carbine, that

CONSUELO. 303

she might return to him and keep him upon the ter-
race until the Prussians were far away, when, on
opening the Uttle door which led from the terrace
to the corridor, she found herself face to face with
Baron von Kreutz. He had been to his room for his
cloak and pistols. Consuelo had only time to drop
the gun behind her, in the angle formed by the door,
and to spring into the corridor, closing the door be-
tween Karl and herself. She feared that if he saw
his enemy, the sight might reawaken all his fury.

The haste of this motion and the agitation which
compelled her to lean against the door, as if she had
feared to fliint, did not escape the observing eye of
Baron von Kreutz. He carried a torch, and stopped
before her, smiling. His face was perfectly calm, but
Consuelo thought she saw that his hand shook and
caused the light to tremble very perceptibly. These
circumstances, together with the certainty which she
acquired a little later that a window of the room in
which the baron had left his cloak opened upon the
terrace, afterwards caused Consuelo to think tliat the
two Prussians had not missed a word of her conversa-
tion with Karl. Still, the baron greeted her cour-
teously and calmly ; and as the horror of the situation
caused her to forget to reply to his greeting and
deprived her of strength to say a word, Kreutz,
having examined her for a moment, with eyes which
expressed more interest than surprise, said to her in
a gentle voice, as he took her hand, —

''Come, my child, collect yourself. You seem

304 CONSUELO,

greatly agitated. We frightened you by passing sud-
denly before this door just as you opened it ; but we
are your servants and your friends. I hope that we
shall meet in Berlin, and perhaps we may be able to
be useful to you there."

The baron drew Consuelo's hand somewhat towards
him as if, on a first impulse, he had thought of raising
it to his lips. But he only pressed it lightly, bowed
again and went off, followed by his lieutenant, who
did not even see Consuelo, so disturbed and agitated
was he. This bearing confirmed the young girl in
the opinion that he knew of the danger by which his
superior officer had been threatened.

But who could this man be, the reponsibility for
whom weighed so heavily upon the head of another,
and whose destruction had seemed to Karl so com-
plete and intoxicating a vengeance? Consuelo re-
turned to the terrace to draw his secret from him,
while still continuing to watch him ; but she found
him fainting, and not being able to help this colossus
to rise, she went down and called other servants to
go to his aid.

" Ah, it is nothing ! " said they, starting for the spot
to which she directed them ; " he drank a little too
much mead this evening, and we will carry him to
bed."

Consuelo would have liked to return with them,
for she was afraid that Karl might betray himself on
reviving; but she was prevented by Count Hoditz,
who came by, and made her take his arm, rejoicing

CONSUELO. 305

that she had not yet retired, and that he could give
her a new spectacle. She had to follow him to the
front steps, and there she saw in the air, on one of
the hills of the park, in the very quarter which Karl
had pointed out as the direction of his expedition, a
great arch of light, on which letters in colored glass
could be confusedly distinguished.

" That is a handsome illumination," said she, with
an absent air.

'^ It is a delicate compliment, a discreet and re-
spectful farewell to the guest who is leaving us," he
replied. " In a quarter of an hour he will pass the
foot of that hill through a hollow road which we cannot
see from here, and where he will find this triumphal
arch raised over his head as if by enchantment."

" Count," said Consuelo, coming out of her revery,
"who, pray, is this person who has just left us?"

"You will know by and by, my child."

" If I must not ask, I will be silent, count ; but I
suspect that his name is not Baron von Kreutz."

" I was not his dupe for an instant," said the
count, who was not quite truthful in this respect. " I
know that it is his fancy, and that he is offended when
one does not appear to take him for what he declares
himself. You saw that I treated him like a simple
officer, and yet " —

The count was dying to speak ; but the proprieties
forbade him to pronounce a name apparently so
sacred. He took a middle course, and handed his
opera- glass to Consuelo, saying, —

3o6 CONSUELO,

*^ See how well this improvised arch has suc-
ceeded. It is nearly half a mile off, and I will wager
that with my glass, which is excellent, you can read
what is written on it. The letters are twenty feet
high, although they seem to you imperceptible.
Still, look carefully " —

Consuelo looked, and easily read this inscription,
which revealed the secret of the comedy : —

"long live FREDERICK THE GREAT."

"Ah, count !" said she, greatly troubled, " it is dan-
gerous for such a person to travel thus, and still more
so to receive him."

" I do not understand you," said the count ; " we
are at peace ; no one would dream now of injuring
him upon the soil of the empire, and no one can
think it unpatriotic to receive such a guest honor-
ably."

Consuelo was busy with her thoughts. Hoditz re-
called her to herself by saying that he had an humble
request to make her; that he was afraid of tres-
passing upon her good-nature, but that the matter
was so important that he was obliged to trouble her.
After much circumlocution, he said, with a grave and
mysterious air, —

" I wish you would have the kindness to assume
the role of the spectre."

" What spectre ? " said Consuelo, who was think-
ing only of Frederick and the events of the evening.

CONSUELO. 307

"The spectre which comes at dessert to call the
margravine and her guests, to lead them through the
corridor of Tartarus, where I have placed the field of
the dead, and to conduct them to the theatre, where
Olympus is to receive them. Venus does not appear
upon the stage immediately, and you will have time
to take off, behind the scenes, the spectre's shroud,
under which you will have on the brilliant costume
of the Mother of Love, composed of rose-colored
satin, with bows of silver, very small hoops, and hair
without powder, but with pearls, feathers and roses, —
a very modest costume, but extremely bewitching, as
you will see. Come, you will consent to play the
spectre ; for it is necessary to walk with great dignity,
and not one of my little actresses would dare to
say to her highness, in a tone at once imperious and
respectful, ' Follow me 1 ' It is a very difficult speech
to deliver, and I have thought that a person of genius
could make a great deal of it. What do you think? "

"The speech is admirable, and I will play the
spectre with all my heart," replied Consuelo laughing.

"Ah, you are an angel, an angel indeed ! " cried
the count, kissing her hand.

But alas ! this fete, this brilliant fete, this dream
which the count had cherished all the winter, and
which had caused him to make three trips to Moravia
to prepare for the realization of it ; this day, so long
awaited, was to vanish in smoke, like the serious and
terrible vengeance of Karl. The next day, towards
noon, all was ready. The people of Roswald were

3o8 CONSUELO,

under arms ; the nymphs, the genii, the savages, the
dwarfs, the giants, the mandarins and the spectres
were awaiting, shivering at their posts, the moment to
begin their evolutions ; the steep road was cleared of
snow and strewn with moss and violets ; the guests,
collected from the neighboring castles, and even from
distant towns, formed a respectable escort for the
amphitryon, when, alas ! a thunder-stroke came to
overthrow everything. A courier, riding at full
speed, announced that the margravine's carriage had
upset in a ditch, that two of her highness's ribs were
broken, and that she was obliged to stop at Olmiitz,
where the count was requested to join her. The
crowd dispersed. The count, followed by Karl, who
had recovered his reason, mounted his best horse and
set out in haste, after speaking a few words to his
major-domo.

The Pleasures, Brooks, Hours and Rivers went off
to resume their furred boots and woollen frocks, and
returned to their labor in the fields, along with the
Chinese, druids, pirates and anthropophagi. The
guests got into their carriages again, and the berlin
which had brought Porpora and his pupil was once
more placed at their disposal. The major-domo, in ac-
cordance with the orders which he had received,
brought them the sum agreed upon, and forced them
to accept it, although they had only half earned it.
They set out for Prague the same day, the maestro
enchanted to be rid of the cosmopolitan music and
polyglot cantatas of his host ; and Consuelo, looking

CONSUELO. 309

towards Silesia, grieved at turning her back upon the
captive of Glatz, without hope of rescuing him from
his unhappy fate.

Baron von Kreutz, who had spent the night at a
village not far from the Moravian frontier, left it that
same evening in a large travelling carriage, escorted
by his mounted pages and by the berlin of his suite,
containing his clerks and his travelling treasury. As
he drew near the town of Neisse, he said to his lieu-
tenant, or rather his aide-de-camp. Baron von Budden-
brock, — and it may be observed that, dissatisfied with
his awkwardness on the day before, he then spoke to
him for the first time since he had left Roswald, —

^' What was that illumination which I saw from a
distance on a hill at the foot of which we were to have
passed as we went from Count Hoditz's park? "

" Sire," replied the trembling Buddenbrock, " I did
not see any illumination."

" You were wrong. A man who accompanies me
should see everything."

" Your majesty should pardon the terrible anxiety
caused me by the resolution of a villain " —

'' You do not know what you are talking about.
This man was a fanatic, a wretched Catholic devotee,
exasperated by the sermons which the Bohemian
priests preached against me during the war ; besides,
he was driven to extremities by some personal mis-
fortune. He must be a peasant who has been carried
off for my army, — one of those deserters whom we
sometimes recapture in spite of their fine precautions."

3IO CONSUELO.

"Your majesty may rest assured that to-morrow
this one will be recaptured and brought before him."

" Have you given orders that he is to be taken
from Count Hoditz?"

" Not yet, sire ; but as soon as I arrive at Neisse I
will send four able and determined men for him."

" I forbid it. On the contrary, you will learn about
this man ; and if his family fell victims to the war, as his
disjointed expressions seemed to indicate, you will see
that he is paid the sum of a thousand rix-dollars, and
you will have him pointed out to the recruiters of
Silesia, that they may always leave him alone. You
understand me? He is named Karl, is very tall, a
Bohemian, and in the service of Count Hoditz ; that
is enough for it to be easy to find him, and to learn
his family name and his position."

" Your majesty shall be obeyed."

" I hope so. What do you think of this old musi-
cian?"

" Porpora ? He seems to me foolish, conceited
and with a very crabbed temper."

" And I tell you that he is a very superior man in
his art, full of wit and a very amusing irony. When
he and his pupil reach the frontier of Prussia, you
will send a good carriage to meet him."

"Yes, sire."

" And you will cause him to enter it alone, — alone,
do you understand ? with great courtesy."

" Yes, sire."

"And then?"

CONSUELO. 311

" Then your majesty wishes him brought to BerHn ? "

" You have no common sense to-day ! I wish him
taken to Dresden, and from there to Prague, if he '
hkes, and in the same way to Vienna, if such is his
desire, all at my expense. Since I have taken so
honorable a man from his occupation, I must return
him to the place from which I took him without its
costing him anything. But I do not wish him to set
foot in my dominions. He has too much wit for us."

"What does your majesty command in regard to
the cantatrice? "

" She is to be taken under escort, willing or unwilling,
to Sans-Souci, and given an apartment in the palace."

" In the palace, sire? "

" Well, are you become deaf? The Barberini's
apartment."

" And what are we to do with the Barberini, sire ? "

" She is no longer in Berlin. She has gone. Did
you not know it ? "

" No, sire."

" What do you know ? And as soon as this girl
has arrived, I am to be notified, at whatever hour of
the day or night it may be. Do you hear ? These
are the orders which you will have inscribed in regis-
ter No. I of the clerk of my treasure, — the compen-
sation to Karl, the dismissal of Porpora, the succession
of Barberini's honors and profits to Porporina. Here
we are at the gate of the town. Recover your good
humor, Buddenbrock, and try to be a little less stupid
when I take a fancy to travel incognito with you."

312 CONSUELO.

CHAPTER XXI.

When Porpora and Consuelo reached Prague at
night- fall the cold was biting. The moon illumined
this old city, which revealed in its appearance the
religious and warlike character of its history. Our
travellers entered it by the gate called Rosthor, and,
passing through the portion which is on the right
bank of the Moldau, arrived at the middle of the
bridge without hinderance. But there the carriage
stopped short with a violent jolt.

" Good heaven ! " cried the postilion, " my horse
has fallen in front of the statue ! A bad omen !
May St. John Nepomuck assist us ! "

Consuelo, seeing that one of the wheelers was
entangled in his traces, and that it would take the
postilions some time to raise him and rearrange the
harness, which had been broken by the fall, suggested
to Porpora to get out, that they might warm them-
selves somewhat by walking. The master having
assented, Consuelo went to the parapet, to see in
what sort of spot they were. Two distinct cities
compose Prague, one of which, called "the new"
was built by the Emperor Charles IV. in 1348; the
other is more ancient. From the point where Con-
suelo was, they seemed two black mountains of stone,
from the highest points of which rose the slender

CONSUELO. 313

spires of ancient edifices and the dark embrasures of
the fortifications. The Moldau flowed black and
rapid beneath this bridge, so severe in its architect-
ure and the theatre of so many tragic events in the
history of Bohemia, while the moon lighted with its
pale rays the head of the venerated statue. Con-
suelo looked at this figure of the saintly doctor, which
seemed to cast a melancholy gaze upon the waves.
The legend of St. Nepomuck is beautiful and his
name venerable to whoever esteems independence
and loyalty. He was the confessor of the Empress
Jane, and when he refused to betray the secret of her
confession, the drunkard Wenceslas, who wished to
know the thoughts of his wife, and was unable to learn
anything from the illustrious doctor, caused him to be
drowned beneath the bridge of Prague. Tradition
relates that at the moment he disappeared under the
water, five stars shone over the scarce-closed gulf, as if
the martyr had allowed his crown to float for a moment
upon the waves. In memory of this miracle, five stars
of metal were let into the stone of the balustrade at the
very spot from which Nepomuck was thrown.

Rosmunda, who was very religioub, had preserved a
tender memory of the legend of St. John Nepomuck ;
and in the enumeration of the saints whom she
caused the pure mouth of her child to invoke every
evening, she never forgot him, the special patron of
travellers, of people in danger, and above all the
preserver of a good reputation. As the poor dream
of wealth, so the Zingara, as she grew older, formed

314 CONSUELO.

an ideal of this treasure which she had cared httle
to guard during her youth. In consequence of this
reaction, Consuelo had been brought up with ideas of
exquisite purity. She recollected then the prayer
which she had formerly addressed to the apostle of
sincerity; and, impressed by the sight of the spot
which witnessed his tragic end, she knelt instinctively
among the devotees who still, at that period, paid
assiduous court to the image of the saint at all hours
of the day and night. They were poor women, pil-
grims, old beggars, perhaps some zingari also, chil-
dren of the mandolin and owners of the highway.
Their piety did not absorb them so much that they
forgot to hold out their hands to her. She gave
them alms liberally, happy to remember the time
when she was neither better shod nor prouder than
they. Her generosity touched them so much that
they consulted together in a low voice and charged
one of themselves to tell her that they would sing
one of the ancient hymns of the service of the blessed
Nepomuck, that the saint might avert the evil omen
as a result of which she was stopped upon the bridge.
The music and the words were, according to them,
of the time of Wenceslas the drunkard.

" Suscipe quas dedimus, Johannes beate,
Tibi preces supplices, noster advocate;
Fieri, dum vivimus, ne sinas infames,
Et nostras post obitum coelis infer manes."

Porpora, who took pleasure in listening to them,
judged that their hymn was hardly more than a cent-

CONSUELO, 315

ury old ; but he heard a second which seemed to
him a malediction addressed to Wenceslas by his
contemporaries, and which began as follows ; —

" Saevus, piger imperator,
Malorum clarus patrator.

Although the crimes of Wenceslas were not of
great importance, it seemed that the poor Bohemians
took an eternal pleasure in cursing, in the person of
this tyrant, the abhorred title *^ imperator," which had
become for them the synonyme of a stranger.

An Austrian sentinel guarded the gate at either ex-
tremity of the bridge. Their orders compelled them
to march continually from the gate to the middle of
the structure ; there they met before the statue, turned
their backs upon each other, and resumed their im-
passable promenade. They heard the hymns, but as
they were not as learned in Church Latin as the Prague
worshippers, they no doubt imagined that they were
listening to a canticle in honor of Francis of Lorraine,
the husband of Maria Theresa.

As she listened to these simple hymns by moon-
light, in one of the most poetic spots in the world,
Consuelo was filled with melancholy. Her journey
had been happy and cheerful, so far, and by a natural
reaction she suddenly became sad. The postilion,
who was repairing his harness with German slowness,
repeated at every exclamation of impatience, "This
is a bad omen," so that Consuelo's imagination was
at last impressed by it. Every painful emotion, every

3i6 CONSUELO.

prolonged revery, recalled to her the memory of Al-
bert. She recollected at that moment that one evening
he, hearing the canoness invoke aloud in her prayer
St. Nepomuck, the guardian of good reputations, had
said to her, " It is all very well for you, aunt, who have
taken the precaution to assure your own by an exem-
plary life ; but I have often seen persons soiled with
vice calling the miracles of this saint to their aid, that
they might the better conceal their secret iniquities
from their fellow-men. It is thus that your devout
practices serve as often for a cloak to gross hypocrisy
as for an aid to innocence." At that moment, Con-
suelo fancied she heard Albert's voice sounding in the
evening breeze and the dark waves of the Moldau.
She asked herself what he would think of her, whom
he considered already perverted, perhaps, if he saw
her kneeling before this Catholic image, and she was
rising, half frightened, when Porpora said to her, —

'^ Come, let us get in ; everything is repaired."

She followed him, and was preparing to enter the
carriage, when a heavy rider, mounted on a still heav-
ier horse, stopped short, dismounted and approached
her, to look at her with a tranquil curiosity which ap-
peared to her very impertinent.

"What are you doing here, sir?" said Porpora,
thrusting him back. " One does not look so closely
at ladies. It may be the custom at Prague, but I am
not disposed to submit to it."

The large man showed his face from behind his
furs, and still holding his horse by the bridle, replied

CONSUELO, 317

to Porpora in Bohemian, without perceiving that the
latter did not at all understand him. But Consuelo,
struck by the voice of this person, and leaning for-
ward to look at his face in the moonlight, cried, as
she passed between him and Porpora, " Is it you, Baron
Rudolstadt?"

"Yes, it is I, signora ! " replied Baron Frederick,
" it is I, the brother of Christian, the uncle of Albert ;
oh, it is I, and it is you, too ! " he added, heaving a
deep sigh.

Consuelo was struck by his sad air and the coldness
of his greeting. He who had always prided himself
on his chivalrous gallantry towards her, did not kiss
her hand, did not even think of touching his fur cap
to bow to her ; he only repeated, as he looked at her
with an amazed, not to say an appalled, air, " It is
you ! really, it is you ! "

" Give me news of Reisenburg ! " said the agitated
Consuelo.

" I will, signora ; I long to do so.'*

"Well, baron, speak; tell me of Count Christian,
of the canoness, of" —

" Oh, yes, I will tell you !" replied Frederick,
becoming more and more stupefied and almost out of
his mind.

" And Count Albert 1 " said Consuelo, frightened by
his expression.

" Oh, yes, Albert ! alas ! yes, I wish to tell you of
him."

But he did not speak, and through all the young

3IO CONSUELO,

girl's questions remained almost as silent and motion-
less as the statue of Nepomuck.

Porpora began to become impatient. It was cold,
and he was anxious to reach a comfortable resting-
place. Besides, this meeting, which might make a
great impression upon Consuelo, annoyed him con-
siderably.

" Baron," he said, " we will have the honor of pay-
ing our respects to you to-morrow. But allow us now
to go to sup and warm ourselves. We need that
more than compliments," he added between his teeth,
as he sprang into the carriage into which he had just
thrust Consuelo, willing or unwilling.

"But, my friend," said she, anxiously, "let me
learn " —

" Leave me in peace," he answered roughly ; " this
man is an idiot, if he is not drunk ; and we might
spend the night on the bridge, without his being deliv-
ered of a sensible word."

Consuelo was suffering from frightful anxiety.

"You are pitiless," she said, as the carriage passed
off the bridge and entered the old town. " A moment
more and I should have learned what interests me
more than anything else in the world " —

"Hello! Are we still at it? Will this Albert
always run in your head? You would have had a
pleasant family, cheerful and well-bred, to judge by
that great boor, whose cap is sealed to his head, ap-
parently ; for he did not do you the grace to raise it
when he saw you."

CONSUELO. 319

" It is a family of which you formerly thought so
well that you sent me into it as into a harbor of
refuge, recommending me to be all respect and love
for those who composed it.'*

" As to the latter point, you obeyed me but too
well, I see."

Consuelo was about to reply, but she paused when
she saw the baron, mounted and apparently deter-
mined to follow the carriage. When she alighted, she
found the old nobleman at the door, offering her his
hand, and politely doing the honors of his house ;
for it was thither, and not to the inn, that he had
ordered the postilion to drive them. Porpora tried
in vain to refuse his hospitality; he insisted, and
Consuelo, who was burning with frightful apprehen-
sions, hastened to accept and to go with him into the
hall, where a great fire and a good supper were
awaiting them.

" You see, signora," said the baron, pointing to the
table, set for three persons, " I was awaiting you."

" That surprises me greatly," said Consuelo ; " we
gave notice of our arrival to no one, and we even ex-
pected, two days ago, not to reach here until the day
after to-morrow."

" It does not surprise you more than me," said the
baron with a dejected air.

" But Baroness Amelia? " asked Consuelo, ashamed
of not having thought sooner of her former pupil.

A cloud covered the baron's brow ; his crimson
complexion, deepened by the cold, became suddenly

320 CONSUELO.

SO pale that Consuelo was terrified ; but he answered,
with a kind of cahnness, —

" My daughter is in Saxony with some of her
kinsfolk. She will be very sorry not to have seen
you.'*

" And the other members of your family, baron,"
continued Consuelo, " may I not know " —

" Yes, you shall know everything," replied Fred-
erick, " you shall know everything. Eat, signora ; you
must need it."

" I cannot eat unless you relieve my anxiety.
Baron, in the name of heaven, you have not to
mourn the loss of any one?'*

" No one is dead," replied the baron, in as mourn-
ful a voice as if he had announced the extinction of
his entire family.

He began to carve the joints with as solemn a delib-
eration as at Reisenburg. Consuelo had not the
courage to question him further. The supper ap-
peared to her mortally long. Porpora, who was less
anxious than hungry, endeavored to converse with his
host. The baron strove, for his part, to reply to him
courteously, and even to question him concerning his
affairs and his projects ; but he was evidently far too
much preoccupied for this. His* replies were not
always appropriate, and he repeated questions a
moment after receiving an answer to them. He still
helped himself to large portions, and allowed his
glass and plate to be filled ; but it was the result of
habit. He neither ate nor drank, and, dropping his

CONSUELO. 321

fork upon the carpet and fixing his eyes upon the
cloth, he gave way to a deplorable depression. Con-
suelo examined him carefully, and saw that he was
not drunk. She wondered whether this sudden decay
was the result of misfortune, disease or old age. At
last, after two hours of this torture, the baron, seeing
the meal ended, signed to his servants to withdraw ;
and after seeking for a long while in his pockets with
a wandering look, he drew forth an open letter, which
he handed to Consuelo. It was from the canoness,
and contained what follows : —

" We are lost ; there is no hope, brother ! Dr.
Supperville has at last arrived from Baireuth, and
after sparing us for several days, has declared to me
that we must put the affairs of the family in order,
because in a week, perhaps, Albert will be no more.
Christian, to whom I have not the courage to com-
municate this sentence, still hopes, but faintly. His
dejection terrifies me, and I do not know whether the
loss of my nephew is the only blow which threatens
us. Frederick, we are lost ! Can you and I survive
such a disaster? As for me, I do not know. May
God's will be done ! That is all I can say ; but I do
not feel the strength not to sink under it. Come to
us, brother, and .strive to bring us courage, if any has
remained to you after your own sorrow, which is also
ours, and which crowns the misfortunes of a family
which one would think accursed ! What crimes have
we committed to deserve such an expiation? May
God preserve me from lacking faith and submission ;

322 CONSUELO.

but truly there are moments when I say to myself
that it is too much.

" Come, my brother, for we need you and long for
you ; but do not leave Prague before the eleventh of
the month. I have to charge you with a strange
commission ; I believe I must be mad to lend myself
to it, but I no longer understand anything in our ex-
istence, and conform blindly to Albert's wishes. The
eleventh, at seven o'clock in the evening, be on the
bridge at Prague, at the foot of the statue. You will
stop the first carriage which passes, and take home
with you the person you see in it. If this person can
leave for Reisenburg that very evening, Albert will
perhaps be saved ; at any rate, he will hold fast to
eternal life, though I do not know what he means by
that. But the revelations which for the last week he
has had of events utterly unexpected by any of us
have been realized in so incomprehensible a manner
that I can no longer doubt ; he has the gift of proph-
ecy or the perception of hidden things. He called
me to his bedside this evening, and in that faint
voice which he now has, and which one must guess
rather than hear, he told me to send you the words
which I have faithfully repeated. Therefore, be at
the foot of the statue at seven o'clock on the eleventh,
and bring here immediately whomever you find there
in a carriage."

As she finished, Consuelo, as pale as the baron
himself, rose suddenly ; then she fell back upon her
chair, and remained for some moments with her arms

CONSUELO, 323

Stiff and her teeth clenched. But she quickly re-
covered her strength, rose again and said to the
baron, who had fallen anew into his stupor, —

" Well, baron, is your carriage ready ? I am ; let
us go."

The baron rose mechanically and went out. He
had had the strength to think of everything before-
hand. The carriage was ready, the horses were
waiting in the courtyard; but he acted as does
an automaton upon the pressure of a spring, and
without Consuelo he would not have thought of
departure.

Hardly had he left the room when Porpora seized
the letter and read it rapidly. He, in turn, became
pale, could not utter a word and walked before the
stove in frightful uneasiness. The maestro had to
reproach himself for what had happened. He had
not foreseen it ; but he said to himself that he should
have done so ; and, a prey to remorse and terror,
feeling his reason, moreover, confounded by the
singular power of divination which had revealed
to the invalid the means of seeing Consuelo once
more, he thought it all a strange and frightful
dream.

Still, as no mind could be more positive than his
in certain respects, and no will more persistent, he
soon thought of the possible results of this sudden
resolution which Consuelo had formed. He moved
about a great deal, struck his brow with his hand
and the floor with his heels, snapped his fingers.

3H CONSUELO.

counted, pondered, collected his courage, and, braving
the explosion, said to Consuelo, shaking her to
attract her attention, —

" You wish to go there, and I consent, but I shall
go with you. You wish to see Albert ; you may give
him the finishing stroke, but we cannot draw back ;
we must go. We can spare two days. We were to
have spent them at Dresden ; now we will not stop
there at all. If we are not at the Prussian frontier
on the eighteenth we break our engagements. The
theatre opens on the twenty-fifth ; if you are not
ready, I shall be obliged to pay a considerable fine.
I have not half the necessary sum, and in Prussia
whoever does not pay goes to prison. Once in
prison, you are forgotten ; you are left there ten,
twenty years ; you die there of grief or old age, as
you choose. That is the fate which awaits me if
you forget that we must leave Reisenburg on the
fourteenth, by five o'clock in the morning at
latest.'*

" Be easy, master," replied Consuelo, with the
energy of resolution, " I had already thought of all
that. Do not make me suffer at Reisenburg, that
is all I ask of you. We will leave on the fourteenth,
at five o'clock in the morning."

" You must swear it."

" I swear it ! " replied she, shrugging her shoulders
impatiently. " When it is a question of your life and
liberty, I cannot imagine why you need an oath from
me."

CONSUELO. 325

The baron returned at that moment, followed by
an old, devoted and intelligent servant, who wrapped
him like a child in his fur pelisse, and dragged him "
to his carriage. They drove rapidly to Beraum, and
reached Pilsen at daybreak.

326 CONSUELO.

CHAPTER XXIL

From Pilsen to Tauss, although they drove as fast
as possible, they were obliged to lose a great deal of
time in the frightful roads, through forests almost im-
passable and frequented by bad characters, so that the
passage through them was attended by dangers of
more than one sort. At last, after having made a little
more than a league an hour, they arrived about mid-
night at the Castle of the Giants. Never had Consuelo
made a more fatiguing and mournful journey. Baron
Frederick seemed ready to fall into a paralysis, so
indolent and gouty had he become. It was not a year
since Consuelo had seen him robust as an athlete ; but
this iron frame was not animated by a strong will.
He had never obeyed anything but his instincts, and
at the first blow of an unexpected misfortune he was
broken. The pity which Consuelo felt for him in-
creased her anxiety. " Is it thus that I shall find them
all at Reisenburg? " she thought.

The bridge was lowered, the gates open and ser-
vants waited in the courtyard with torches. No one
of the three travellers thought of observing it, or felt
the strength to ask a question of the servants. Por-
pora, seeing that the baron could hardly walk, took
him by the arm to aid him, while Consuelo sprang
rapidly up the steps. At the top she found the

CONSUELO. 327

canoness, who, without losing time in greeting her,
seized her arm, saying, " Come, time passes ; Albert
is impatient. He has counted the hours and minutes
exactly; he announced that you were entering the
court, and a second later we heard the rolling of your
carriage. He never doubted your arrival, but he said
that if any accident delayed you, it would be too late.
Come, signora, and in the name of heaven do not
resist any of his fancies, do not thwart any of his
desires. Promise all that ne asks, pretend to love
him. Lie, alas ! if need be. Albert is condemned ;
he is at his last hour. Try to lighten his agony ; it is
all we ask of you.'*

As she said this, Wenceslawa drew Consuelo tow-
ards the great drawing-room.

"Is he up? Is he not confined to his room?"
asked Consuelo hastily.

" He does not get up any more, for he no longer
goes to bed. For thirty days he has been seated in a
chair in the drawing-room, and does not wish to be
disturbed to be taken elsewhere. The physician de-
clares that he must not be thwarted in this respect, be-
cause it would kill him to move him. Take courage,
signora, for you are about to see a frightful spectacle."

The canoness opened the door of the drawing-
room, adding, " Go to him, do not be afraid of sur-
prising him. He is waiting for you ; he saw you
coming more than two leagues off."

Consuelo sprang towards her pale betrothed, who
was indeed seated in a great arm-chair beside the

328 CONSUELO.

hearth. He was no longer a man, but a ghost. His
face, still handsome, in spite of the ravages of disease,
had become motionless as marble. There was not a
smile upon his lips, not a flash of joy in his eye. The
physician, who held his arm and felt his pulse, as in
the scene of " Stratonice," let it fall gently, and looked
at the canoness with an expression which meant, " It
is too late." Consuelo was upon her knees beside
Albert, who looked at her fixedly and said nothing.
At last he succeeded in making with his finger a sign
to the canoness, who had learnt to divine all his in-
tentions. She took his arms, which he had no longer
the strength to raise, and placed them upon Consuelo*s
shoulders ; then she placed the head of the latter upon
Albert's breast, and, as the voice of the dying man
was almost extinct, he pronounced these few words in
her ear, " I am happy."

He held the head of his beloved against his breast
for a couple of minutes, while his lips were pressed to
her black hair. Then he looked at his aunt, and by
imperceptible motions caused her to understand that
he desired her and his father to give the same kiss to
his betrothed.

" Oh, with all my heart ! " said the canoness, press-
ing her warmly in her arms. Then she raised her to
lead her to Count Christian, whom Consuelo had not
yet observed.

Seated opposite his son, at the other side of the
hearth, the old count seemed almost as feeble and
faded. He could still rise, however, and take a few

CONSUELO. 329

Steps about the drawing-room, but it was necessary
to carry him nightly to his bed, which he had caused
to be placed in an adjoining room. x\t that moment,
he held his brother's hand in one of his own, and
Porpora's in the other. He dropped them to embrace
Consuelo fervently several times. The almoner of the
castle came in turn to greet her, to please Albert. He
was also a spectre, in spite of his stoutness, which had
only increased ; his pallor was livid. The indolence
of a careless life had weakened him too much for him
to be able to bear the sorrow of others. The canon-
ess preserved energy for them all. Her face was
blotched, and her eyes burned with a feverish light.
Albert alone seemed calm. He had the serenity of a
noble death upon his brow, and his physical prostra-
tion brought no failure of the mental powers. He
was grave, but not overwhelmed, like his father and
uncle.

Amid all these persons, ravaged by disease or
grief, the calmness and health of the physician
showed in strong contrast. Supperville was a French-
man who had been formerly attached to Frederick,
when he was only prince-royal. One of the first to
feel the despotic and suspicious character which lay
dormant in the prince, he had come to live at
Baireuth, and to devote himself to the service of
Sophia Wilhelmina, of Prussia, the sister of Frederick.
Ambitious and jealous, Supperville had all the qual-
ities of a courtier. He was a physician of very mod-
erate ability, in spite of the reputation which he had

330 CONSUELO.

acquired at this little court, but he was a man of the
world, a penetrating observer and a sufficiently in-
telligent judge of the moral causes of disease. He
had strongly urged the canoness to satisfy all the de-
sires of her nephew, and he had hoped for something
from the return of her for whom Albert was dying.
But it was in vain that he had questioned his pulse
and his face. Since Consuelo's arrival, he repeated
to himself that it was too late, and began to think of
withdrawing, that he might no longer witness scenes
which it was not in his power to avert.

He nevertheless resolved to interfere in the ma-
terial affairs of the family, either to serve some per-
sonal interest or to satisfy his habitual taste for
intrigue ; and seeing that no one, of all these appalled
persons, thought of making the most of the minutes,
he drew Consuelo into the recess of a window to
whisper to her, in French, as follows : —

" Signora, a doctor is a confessor. I therefore
soon learned the secret of the passion which is lead-
ing this young man to the grave. As a physician,
accustomed to examine everything and not to believe
readily in suspensions of the laws of the physical
world, I declare to you that I cannot believe in the
strange visions and ecstatic revelations of the young
count. In what concerns you, at least, it seems very,
simple to attribute them to secret communications
which he has had with you concerning your journey
to Prague and your arrival here." And as Consuelo
made a negative gesture, he continued, "I do not

CONSUELO, 331

question you, signora, and ii)y suppositions ought not
to offend you. You should rather give me your con-
fidence, and regard me as entirely devoted to your
interests.''

" I do not understand you, sir," replied Consuelo,
with a frankness which did not convince the court
physician.

"You shall understand me, signora," he said
coolly. "The family of the young count have
opposed your marriage to him with all their power
until now. But at last their resistance is at an end.
Albert is going to die, and it being his wish to leave
you a fortune, they will not oppose a religious cere-
mony, which will assure it to you permanently."

" What do I care for Albert's fortune ? " said Con-
suelo in amazement. " What has that to do with the
state in which I find him ? I have not come here to
do business, sir ; I have come to try to save him. Is
there no hope of it? "

" None. This disease, which is wholly mental, is
one of those which disconcert all our plans and resist
all the efforts of science. It is a month since the
young count, after a disappearance of a fortnight
which no one here has been able to explain to me,
returned to his family, smitten with a sudden and
incurable malady. All the functions of life were
already suspended. For thirty days he has not been
able to swallow any sort of food ; and it is one of
those phenomena of which the exceptional organiza-
tions of deranged persons alone offer examples, that

332 CONSUELO.

he has been able to sustain Hfe thus far upon a few
drops of water daily and a few minutes of sleep at
night. As you see, all the vital forces are exhausted
in him. After two days more, at the most, he will
have ceased to suffer. Summon your courage, there-
fore ; do not lose your head. I am here to support
you and to strike a blow in your favor."

Consuelo was still looking at him with astonishment
when the canoness, prompted by a sign from the
invalid, came to interrupt them and to conduct the
doctor to Albert.

Albert, having made him draw close to him, spoke
in his ear longer than his condition of weakness
seemed to render possible. Supperville reddened
and paled, and the canoness, who was watching them
anxiously, burned to learn what desire Albert was
expressing.

" Doctor," said Albert, " I heard all that you said
to that young girl." Supperville, who had spoken at
the other end of the great drawing-room as low as
his patient was now speaking to him, was startled, and
his positive ideas about the impossibility of supernat-
ural faculties were so upset that he thought he should
go mad. " Doctor," continued the dying man, " you
do not comprehend her nature, and you endanger my
plans by alarming her pride. She understands none
of your ideas about money. She has never wished
either my title or my fortune ; she has no love for
me. She will only yield to pity. Speak to her heart.
I am nearer my end than you think. Do not lose

CONSUELO. 333

time. I cannot live happy hereafter if I do not bear
into the night of rest the title of her husband."

"But what do you mean by your last words?"
said Supperville, trying to analyze his patient's mad-
ness.

" You cannot understand them," said Albert with
an effort, " but she will. Confine yourself to repeat-
ing them faithfully."

" Really, count," said Supperville, raising his voice
a little, " I see that I cannot interpret your thoughts
clearly ; you have now more strength to speak than
you have had for a week, and I think it a favorable
sign. Speak to her yourself; a word from you will
convince her more than all I can say. Here she is
beside you ; let her take my place and listen to you."

As Supperville did indeed have no comprehension
of what he thought he understood, and, as he be-
lieved, moreover, that he had said enough to Consuelo
to insure her gratitude, in case she was aiming at the
fortune, he withdrew, after Albert had said to him
further, —

" Remember what you promised me ; the time has
come. Speak to my relatives ; make them consent
without hesitation. The time is short."

Albert was so fatigued by the effort which he had
just made, that he leaned his brow against that of
Consuelo when she had come close to him, and rested
there for some moments, as if ready to expire. His
white lips became bluish, and Porpora, frightened,
thought that he had just breathed his last sigh. Mean-

334 CONSUELO,

while, Supperville had collected Count Christian, the
baron, the canoness and the chaplain, at the other
side of the fireplace, and was speaking to them ear-
nestly. The chaplain alone made an objection, timid
in appearance, but which summed up all the persist-
ence of a priest.

" If your lordships exact it," he said, " I will lend
my ministry to this marriage ; but Count Albert, not
being in a state of grace, must first make his peace
with the church by confession and extreme unction."

" Extreme unction ! " said the canoness, with a
smothered groan; ^'have we come to that, great
God?"

"We have come to that, indeed," replied Supper-
ville, who, as a man of the world and a Voltairian phil-
osopher, detested the face and the objections of the
almoner ; " yes, we have come to that without remis-
sion, if the chaplain insists upon this point, and is de-
termined to torment the invalid by the mournful
preparations for the last offices."

"And do you think," said Count Christian, divided
between his religion and his fatherly love, "that a
more cheerful ceremony, one more in accordance with
his wishes, may restore him to Hfe."

" I can answer for nothing," replied Supperville,
"but I venture to say that I hope much from it.
Your lordship formerly consented to this marriage " —

" I have always consented to it ; I never opposed
it," said the count, purposely raising his voice ; " it
is Master Porpora, the guardian of this young girl, who

CONSUELO. 335

wrote me for her that he could not consent to it, and
that she herself had renounced it. Alas ! it was my
son's death blow," he added, lowering his voice.

"You hear what my father says," murmured Al-
bert in Consuelo's ear; "but you must feel no
remorse for it. I believed that you had abandoned
me, and I allowed myself to be stricken by despair ;
but within a week I have recovered my reason, which
they call my madness ; I have read in hearts at a dis-
tance as others read in open letters. I saw at once
the past, the present and the future. I knew at last
that you had been faithful to your oath, Consuelo ;
that you had done your best to love me ; that you
had loved me really for a few hours. But we were both
deceived. Pardon your master as I pardon him ! "

Consuelo looked at Porpora, who could not hear
Albert's words, but who, at those of Count Christian,
had become troubled, and was walking up and down
before the fireplace in great agitation. She looked at
him with an air of solemn reproach, and the master
understood it so well that he beat his brow with mute
violence. Albert signed to Consuelo to bring Por-
pora to him, and to aid him to hold out his hand to
the old master. Porpora raised that icy hand to his
lips and burst into tears. His conscience reproached
him with homicide, but his repentance absolved him.

Albert made another sign that he wished to hear
what his relatives were replying to Supperville, and he
heard it, though Porpora and Consuelo, kneeling be-
side him, could not catch a word.

33^ CONSUELO.

The chaplain was writhing under the bitter irony of
the doctor ; the canoness was seeking, by a mixture
of superstition and tolerance, of Christian charity and
maternal love, to reconcile ideas which are irreconcil-
able in the Catholic religion. The discussion only
turned upon a point of form ; namely, that the chap-
lain thought he ought not to administer the sacrament
of marriage to a heretic unless he at least promised to
profess the Catholic faith immediately afterwards.
Supperville did not stick at a falsehood, affirming
that Count Albert had promised him to believe and
profess anything they chose after the ceremony.
But the chaplain was not deceived. At last, Coimt
Christian, having one of those moments of tranquil
firmness and simple, manly logic by which, after much
irresolution and weakness, he had always settled all
domestic discussions, ended the dispute.

" Chaplain," said he, " there is no ecclesiastical
law which expressly forbids you to marry a Catholic
to a schismatic. The Church tolerates these mar-
riages. Consider Consuelo orthodox and my son a
heretic, and marry them at once. Confession and
betrothal are not obligatory, you know, and in certain
urgent cases they may be dispensed with. A favor-
able change in Albert's condition may result from this
marriage, and when he is cured, we will think about
converting him."

The chaplain had never resisted old Christianas
will ; it was, for him, a law superior to the pope's in
matters of conscience. It only remained to convince

CONSUELO, 337

Consuelo. Albert alone thought of it, and drawing
her close to him, he succeeded, without the aid of.
any one, in placing his arms, as light as reeds, about
the neck of his well-beloved.

" Consuelo," he said, " I can read in your soul
now ; you would like to give your life to revive mine.
That is not possible ; but you can, by a simple act of
will, save my eternal life. I am about to leave you
for a little while, and then I shall come back upon
earth by the manifestation of a new birth. I shall
return accursed and despairing, if you abandon me
now, at my last hour. The crimes of John Ziska are
not sufficiently expiated ; and you alone, my sister
Wanda, can accomplish the act of purification of that
phase of my life. We are brother and sister; to
become lovers, death must pass once more between
us. But we must become husband and wife by oath ;
that I may be born again calm, strong and free, like
other men, from the memory of my past existences,
which has constituted my torture and my punishment
through so many ages, consent to pronounce this
oath. It will not bind you to me in this life, which I
am about to leave in a moment, but it will reunite us
in eternity. It will be a seal which will enable us to
recognize each other when the shadows of death have
effaced the clearness of our memories. Consent ! It
is a Catholic ceremony which will be performed, and
I accept it, because it is the only one which can legit-
imate, in the minds of men, the possession which
we take of one another. I must bear this sanction

33^ CONSUELO,

to the tomb. Marriage without the consent of the
family is not a complete marriage in my eyes. In
other respects, I care httle for the form of the oath.
Ours will be indissoluble in our hearts as it is sacred
in our intentions.'*

" I consent ! " cried Consuelo, pressing her lips to
the cold and gloomy brow of her husband.

These words were heard by every one.

"Very well, let us hasten,*' said Supperville. He
resolutely hurried the chaplain, who called the ser-
vants, and made haste to prepare everything for the
ceremony. The count, somewhat revived, came to
sit down beside his son and Consuelo. The good
canoness came to thank our heroine for consenting,
and almost knelt before her to kiss her hands. Baron
Frederick wept silently without appearing to under-
stand what was going on. In a twinkling, an altar
was erected before the fireplace in the great drawing-
room. The servants were dismissed; they thought
that only extreme unction was to be administered,
and that the condition of the invalid would not allow
many people in the room. Porpora and Supperville
were the witnesses. Albert suddenly recovered enough
voice to pronounce the decisive " yes," and all the
formulas of engagement, in a clear and sonorous
voice. The family conceived a lively hope of cure.
Hardly had the chaplain recited the last prayer over
the heads of the newly married couple, when Albert
arose, cast himself into the arms of his father, em-
braced with the same precipitancy and an extraordi-

COISfSUELO. 339

nary strength his aunt, his uncle and Porpora ; then
he sat down upon his chair, and pressed Consuelo
against his breast, saying, —

"I am saved 1 '*

" It is the last effort of life ; it is a final convulsion,"
said Supperville to Porpora ; he had consulted the
pulse and the face of the patient several times during
the ceremony.

Albert opened his arms, stretched them out and
let them fall upon his knees. Old Cynabre, who, dur-
ing his whole illness, had not ceased to sleep at his
feet, raised his head and uttered three mournful
howls. Albert's look was fixed upon Consuelo; his
mouth remained half open, as if to speak to her.
A faint color had tinged his cheeks ; soon that pecul-
iar tint, that indefinable, indescribable shade, which
passes slowly from the brow to the lips, spread over
him like a white veil. For a minute, his face as-
sumed different expressions, each more serious than
the last, of contemplation and resignation, until it be-
came fixed in a final look of august calmness and
severe placidity.

The terrified silence which rested upon the atten-
tive and throbbing family was interrupted by the
voice of the physician, who pronounced, with mourn-
ful solemnity, that sentence without appeal, —

« It is death."

34° CONSUELO,

CHAPTER XXIII.

Count Christian fell back in his chair, as if strack
by lightning ; the canoness, with convulsive sobs,
threw herself upon Albert as if she hoped to revive
him once more by her caresses ; Baron Frederick
pronounced words without sense or connection, which
had the character of tranquil derangement. Supper-
ville approached Consuelo, whose energetic immobil-
ity frightened him more than the violent emotion of
the others.

"Do not trouble yourself about me, sir," she said ;
" nor you either, my friend," she repHed to Porpora,
who bestowed all his anxiety upon her at first.
" lake away these unfortunate relatives. Care for
them, think only of them ; I will remain here. The
dead need but respect and prayers."

The count and baron allowed themselves to be led
away without resistance. The canoness, cold and
stiff as a corpse, was borne to her apartment, where
Supperville accompanied her to care for her. Por-
pora, no longer knowing where he was, went out and
strode up and down the garden like a madman. He
was stifling. His feelings were imprisoned, so to
speak, in a cuirass of hardness more apparent than
real, but of which he had acquired the physical habit.
Scenes of mourning and terror excited his susceptible

CONSUELO, 341

imagination, and he wandered for a long while in the
moonlight, pursued by sinister voices which sang in
his ears a frightful " Dies Irae."

Consuelo therefore remained alone with Albert ; for
hardly had the chaplain begun to recite the prayers
of the office for the dead when he fell fainting, and it
was necessary to carry him away likewise. The poor
man had insisted in joining the canoness in sitting up
with Albert during the whole of his illness, and he
was at the end of his strength. The Countess of
Rudolstadt, kneeling beside the body of her husband,
with his icy hands in hers, and her head leaning
against that heart which beat no longer, fell into a
profound revery. That which Consuelo felt at this
supreme moment was not exactly grief; at least it
was not that grief of regret and distraction which ac-
companies the loss of beings necessary to our happi-
ness at every instant. Her affection for Albert had
not had that character of intimacy, and his death did
not leave an evident void in her existence. Our
despair at losing those whom we love springs often
from secret causes of self-love and of cowardice in
the presence of new duties which their absence
creates for us. A part of this grief is legitimate, the
rest is not, and should be fought against, although it
is equally natural. But nothing of all this could
be mingled with Consuelo's solemn sadness. Albert's
existence was foreign to hers in every respect
save one alone, — the need of respect, admiration
and sympathy which he had satisfied in her.

342 CONSUELO,

She had accepted life without him, she had even re-
nounced all evidence of an affection which only two
days before she still thought she had lost. She had
nothing left but the need and the desire to remain faith-
ful to a sacred memory. Albert had been already
dead for her ; he was scarcely more so now, or per-
haps he was even less in certain respects ; for Con-
suelo, long excited by intercourse with this superior
mind, had since then come, in her dreamy medita-
tions, to adopt Albert's poetic beliefs concerning the
transmission of souls. This belief had found a strong
foundation in her instinctive hatred of the idea of
God's vengeance upon man after death, and in her
Christian faith in the eternity of the life of the soul.
Albert living, but prejudiced against her by appear-
ances, faithless to love or preyed upon by suspicion,
would have appeared to her as enveloped in a veil
and transported into a new existence, incomplete as
compared to that which he had wished to devote to
sublime love and unshakable confidence. Albert with
his faith and enthusiasm restored, and breathing his
last sigh upon her breast — was he annihilated for her?
Did he not live in all the plenitude of life after pass-
ing through that triumphal arch of a noble death,
which leads either to a mysterious temporary repose
or to an immediate reawakening in a purer and hap-
pier sphere ? To die combating one's weakness, and
to be born again endowed with strength ; to die for-
giving the wicked, and to be born again under the
influence and protection of generous hearts ; to die

CONSUELO, 343

torn by sincere remorse, and to be bom again ab-
solved and purified, with the instincts of virtue, — are
not these divine recompenses? Consuelo, initiated
by Albert's teaching into those doctrines which had
their source in the Hussitism of old Bohemia and the
mysterious sects of former ages (which were con-
nected with serious interpretations of the very idea of
Christ and his forerunners) — Consuelo, sweetly if not
learnedly convinced that the soul of her husband had
not suddenly separated from her own to go and for-
get her in an inaccessible part of a fantastic empyrean,
mingled with this new notion something of the super-
stitious memories of her youth. She had believed in
ghosts as the children of the people believe in them ;
in dreams, she had more than once seen the spectre
of her mother approaching her, to protect and pre-
serve her. It was already a kind of belief in the eter-
nal union of the souls of the dead with the world of
the living ; for this superstition of simple races seems
to have remained in all times as a protest against the
absolute departure of the human essence for the
heaven or hell of religious legislators.

Consuelo, therefore, lying upon the breast of this
corpse, did not imagine that it was dead, or under-
stand the horror of the word, the spectacle or the
idea. It did not seem to her that intellectual life
could vanish so quickly, and that this brain and heart,
forever deprived of the power of manifesting them-
selves, could be already completely extinguished.

" No," she thought, ^^ the divine spark hesitates

344 CONSUELO,

still, perhaps, to lose itself in the bosom of God, who
will take it to send it back to universal life under a
new human form. There is perhaps a kind of mys-
terious, unknown life in this breast, scarcely yet
cold ; and besides, wherever Albert's soul may be,
it sees, understands and knows what is now happen-
ing beside its cast-off covering. It is perhaps seek-
ing in my love food for its new activity, and in my
faith a strength of impulse to go and seek in God the
seed of resurrection.'*

Filled with these vague thoughts, she continued to
love Albert, to open her heart to him, to give him
her devotion, to renew to him the oath of faithfulness
which she had just taken in the name of God and his
family ; to treat him, in short, in her ideas and senti-
ments, not like a dead man for whom one weeps
because about to part from him forever, but like a
living man, whose slumber one respects, while await-
ing his smile on awaking.

When Porpora recovered his reason, he recollected
with terror the position in which he had left Consuelo
and hastened to her. He was surprised to find her
as calm as if watching by the bedside of a friend.
He wished to speak to her, and urge her to go and rest.

" Speak no useless words before this sleeping
angel," she repHed. **Go and rest, good master;
I am resting here."

" Then you wish to kill yourself? " said Porpora,
with a sort of despair.

" No, my friend, I shall live. I shall fulfil my

CONSUELO. 345

duties towards him and you ; but I shall not leave
him to-night for a moment."

As nothing was ever done in the house without an
order from the canoness, and as a superstitious terror
concerning Albert reigned in the minds of all the
servants, no one, during that whole night, ventured to
come near the room in which Consuelo remained
alone with Albert. Porpora and the physician came
and went between the rooms of the count, the canon-
ess and the chaplain. From time to time they
would come to inform Consuelo of the condition
of these unfortunates and to make sure of her own.
They were at a loss to understand such courage.

At last, towards morning, everything was still. A
sleep of exhaustion overcame all the power of grief.
The physician, overwhelmed by fatigue, retired ; Por-
pora fell asleep on a chair, his head leaning against
the side of Count Christian's bed. Consuelo alone
felt no need of forgetting her situation. Lost in her
thoughts, by turns praying with fervor or dreaming
with enthusiasm, her only faithful companion in her
silent watch was the mournful Cynabre, who from
time to time looked at his master, licked his hand,
swept with his tail the ashes on the hearth, and then,
accustomed to no longer receiving caresses from his
feeble hand, lay down again resignedly with his head
upon his sluggish paws.

When the sun, rising behind the trees of the garden,
came to throw a purplish light upon Albert's brow,
Consuelo was aroused from her meditation by the

34^ CONSUELO.

canoness. The count could not leave his bed ; but
Baron Frederick came mechanically to pray, with his
sister and the chaplain, before the altar, and then they
spoke of going on with the shrouding of Albert. The
canoness, recovering strength for these material duties,
sent for her women and old Hans. It was then that
the physician and Porpora insisted that Consuelo
should go and take some rest, and she assented, after
having passed by the bed of Count Christian, who
looked at her without seeming to see her. One could
not tell whether he was asleep or awake ; his eyes
were open, his breathing calm and his face without
expression.

When Consuelo awakened after a few hours sne
went down to the drawing-room, and her heart was
frightfully wrung at finding it empty. Albert had been
placed upon a bier of state and borne into the chapel.
His chair was empty on the spot where Consuelo had
seen him the day before. It was all that remained of
him in this place which had been the centre of the life
of the family during so many bitter days. Even his
dog was no longer there ; the spring sun lighted up
the dreary wainscot, and the blackbirds whistled in
the garden with insolent gayety.

Consuelo went quietly into the next room, the door
of which stood ajar. Count Christian was still in bed,
insensible, apparently, to the loss which had just be-
fallen him. His sister, transferring to him all the care
which she had bestowed upon Albert, was tending him
vigilantly. The baron, with a stupid air, was gazing

CONSUELO, 347

at the logs burning in the fireplace ; only tears, which
fell silently upon his cheeks without his thinking of
wiping them away, showed that he had not had the
happiness to lose memory.

Consuelo approached the canoness to kiss her hand ;
but this hand was withdrawn with insurmountable
aversion. The poor Wenceslawa saw in this young
girl the bane and destroyer of her nephew. She had
had a horror of their projected marriage at first, and
had opposed it with all her power ; and then, when
she had seen that in spite of absence it was impossible
to make Albert renounce it, that his health, his reason
and his life depended on it, she had wished and has-
tened it with an ardor as great as the distaste and re-
pulsion which she had shown in the first place.
Porpora's refusal, the exclusive passion for the stage
which he had not hesitated to attribute to Consuelo ;
in short, all the officious and fatal falsehoods with
which he had filled several letters to Count Christian,
without ever mentioning those which Consuelo had
written and he had suppressed, had caused the great-
est grief to the old man and the bitterest indignation
to the canoness. She had come to hate and despise
Consuelo, being able to pardon her, she said, for
having deranged Albert's reason by this fatal love, but
not for having impudently betrayed him. She was
ignorant that the true murderer of Albert was Porpora.
Consuelo, who read her thoughts, could have justified
herself; but she preferred to assume all the reproach,
rather than to accuse her master and to cause him to

34^ CONSURLO.

lose the esteem and affection of the family. Besides,
she comprehended that if Wenceslawa had the day
before been able to cast aside all her repugnance and
resentment by an effort of maternal love, she must feel
them again, now that the sacrifice had been performed
unavailingly. Every look of this poor aunt seemed
to say to her, " You caused our child to perish ; you
could not restore him to life, and now nothing is left
us but the disgrace of your alliance."

This silent declaration of war hastened the resolu-
tion which she had taken to relieve the canoness as far
as possible of this last misfortune.

" May I implore your ladyship," she said submis-
sively, "to appoint an hour for a private interview
with me ? I must depart to-morrow before daybreak,
and I cannot leave here without communicating to you
my respectful intentions."

" Your intentions ! but I guess them," replied the
canoness bitterly. " Be easy, signora ; everything
will be in order, and the rights which the law gives
you will be scrupulously respected."

" I see that, on the contrary, you do not understand
me at all, madam," said Consuelo ; " I am therefore
most eager " —

" Well, since I must drink of this cup also," said the
canoness rising, " let it be at once, while I still feel
the courage for it. Come with me, signora. My
elder brother seems to be sleeping. M. Supperville,
who has consented to devote his care to him for a
day longer, will replace me for half an hour."

CONSUELO, 349

She rang and sent for the doctor, and then, turning
to the baron, said, —

" Brother, your care is useless, since Christian has
not recovered the consciousness of his misfortunes.
Perhaps this may never occur, happily for him, unhap-
pily for us. Perhaps this prostration is the beginning
of death. I have no one left in the world but you,
brother; take care of your health, which is but too
much affected by this mournful inaction into which
you have fallen. You were accustomed to fresh air
and exercise ; go for a little walk, and take a gun with
you ; the gamekeeper will follow you with his dogs. I
know that it will not make you forget your sorrow ;
but at least you will feel better physically, I am certain
of it. Do it for me, Frederick ; it is the order of the
physician and the prayer of your sister ; do not refuse
me. It is the greatest consolation which you could
give me now, since the last hope of my sad old age is
in you."

The baron hesitated, but yielded at last. His ser-
vants took him away, and he allowed himself to be
led out-doors like a child. The physician examined
Count Christian, who gave no sign of consciousness,
although he replied to his questions, and seemed to
recognize every one with an air of sweetness and in-
difference.

'* The fever is not very high," said Supperville in an
undertone to the canoness ; " if it does not increase
this evening, it may not amount to much."

Wenceslawa, somewhat reassured, intrusted to him

350 CONSUELO.

the care of her brother, and led Consuelo into a large
chamber, richly decorated in an antique style, which
our heroine had never before entered. It contained
a great state bed, the curtains of which had not
been moved for more than twenty years. It was
that in which Wanda von Prachalitz, Albert's mother,
had breathed her last sigh, and this chamber was hers.

'^ It is here," said the canoness, with a solemn air,
after closing the door, " that we found Albert, thirty-
two days ago to-day, after a disappearance of a fort-
night. From that moment he did not reenter it ; he
never left the chair in which he died."

The dry words of this necrological bulletin were
spoken in a bitter tone which plunged so many needles
into poor Consuelo's heart.

Then the canoness took from her girdle her in-
separable bunch of keys, walked to a large cabinet of
carved oak, and opened both doors of it. Consuelo
saw a mountain of jewels tarnished by time, of odd
form, antique for the most part, and set with diamonds
and precious stones of considerable value.

"There," said the canoness, "are the family jewels
which my sister-in-law. Count Christian's wife, pos-
sessed before her marriage ; here, farther on, are those
of my grandmother, which my brothers and I presented
to her; here, finally, are those which her husband
bought her. All these belonged to her son Albert, and
belong now to you, as his widow. Take them away,
and do not fear that any one here will ever quarrel with
you for these riches, for which we do not care, and

CONSUELO, 351

for which we have no further use. As for the titles of
the property which my nephew inherited from his
mother, they will be placed in your hands within an
hour. All is in order, as I told you, and as for those
of his paternal inheritance, you may not have to wait
long for them, alas ! These were Albert*s last wishes ;
my word seemed to him as good as a will."

" Madam," said Consuelo, closing the cabinet with
a gesture of disgust, " I should have torn up the will,
and I beg of you to be discharged of your word. I
have no more use than you for all these riches. It
seems to me that my life would be forever tarnished
by their possession. If Albert left them to me, it was
no doubt with the idea that, in accordance with his
wishes and his habits, I would give them to the poor.
I should be a bad distributor of these noble alms ; I
have neither the administrative ability nor the knowl-
edge necessary to make a really worthy use of them.
It is to you, madam, who unite to these qualities a
Christian soul as generous as that of Albert, that it
belongs to employ this inheritance in works of charity.
I convey all my rights to you, if it is true that I have
any, of which I am, and always wish to remain, igno-
rant. I ask but one favor of your kindness, — that of
never insulting my pride by renewing such offers."

The canoness changed countenance. Compelled
to esteem, but unable to resolve to admire, she en-
deavored to insist.

** What do you wish to do ? " she said, looking
fixedly at Consuelo; "you have no fortune."

352 CONSUELO.

" I beg your pardon, madam ; I am rich enough.
I have simple tastes and the love of work."

*' Then you intend to resume what you call your
work? "

" I am compelled to, madam, and for reasons in
which my conscience has no room to choose, in spite
of the prostration which I feel."

*^ And you will not support in some other way your
new rank in the world ? "

" What rank, madam? "

" That which befits Albert's widow."

" I shall never forget, madam, that I am the widow
of the noble Albert, and my conduct will be worthy of
the husband I have lost."

" And yet the Countess of Rudolstadt is about to
return to the stage ! "

" There is no other Countess of Rudolstadt than
yourself, canoness, and there will be no other after you
except Baroness Amelia, your niece."

" Is it in mockery that you speak to me of her,
signora?" cried the canoness, upon whom the name
of Amelia appeared to have the effect of a burn.

"Why do you ask me that, madam? " replied Con-
suelo, with a frankness which could leave no doubt in
Wenceslawa's mind. " In the name of heaven, tell
me why I have not seen the young baroness here ?
Is she, too, dead, my God?"

" No," said the canoness bitterly ; " would to
heaven that she were ! Let us not speak of her ;
there is no question of her."

CONSUELO. 353

" I am compelled, however, to remind you of some-
thing of which I had not yet thought, madam. It is
that she is the sole and legitimate heiress of the
wealth and titles of your family. This should set your
conscience at rest concerning the deposit which Albert
intrusted to you, since the laws do not allow you to
dispose of it in my favor."

" Nothing can deprive you of your rights to dower
and to a title which Albert placed at your disposal."

" Nothing can deprive me of the right of renounc-
ing them, and I do renounce them. Albert knew
that I did not wish to be either rich or a countess."

" But the world will not allow you to renounce
them."

" The world, madam ! Well, that is just what I
wished to speak to you about. The world would not
comprehend Albert's affection or the condescension
of his family towards a poor girl like me. It would
make of it a reproach to his memory and a blot upon
your life. It would be to me a cause of ridicule and
perhaps of shame ; for, I repeat it, the world could
never comprehend what has happened here among us.
The world must always be ignorant of it, madam, as
your servants are ignorant; for my master and the
physician, the only confidants and stranger witnesses of
this secret marriage, have not yet revealed it, and will
not reveal it. I will answer for the one, and you can
and should insure the silence of the other. Therefore,
live in peace as regards this point, madam. It de-
pends only upon you to carry this secret to the tomb,

354 CONSUELO.

and never, by my act, shall the Baroness Amelia sus-
pect that I have the honor to be her cousin. There-
fore forget Count Albert's last hour ; it is for me to
remember it, to bless him and to be silent. You have
enough tears to shed without my adding the grief and
mortification of ever recalling to you my existence as
the widow of your admirable nephew.'*

" Consuelo, my daughter ! " cried the canoness,
sobbing, " remain with us ! You have a great heart
and a great mind. Do not leave us ! "

" It would be the wish of this heart, which is wholly
devoted to you," replied Consuelo, receiving her
caresses with warmth, " but I could not do it without
having our secret betrayed or guessed, which amounts
to the same thing, and I know that the honor of the
family is dearer to you than life. Allow me to render
you the only service in my power by tearing myself
from your arms without delay or hesitation."

The tears which the canoness shed at the end of
this scene relieved her of the frightful weight which
oppressed her. They were the first which she had
been able to shed since the death of her nephew.
She accepted Consuelo's sacrifice, and the confidence
which she placed in her resolution proved that at last
she appreciated this noble character. She left her to
go and inform the chaplain and to explain to Supper-
ville and Porpora the necessity of keeping silence for-
ever.

CONSUELO, 355

CONCLUSION.

CoNSUELO, finding herself alone, spent the day in
wandering about the castle, the garden and the neigh-
borhood, that she might see once more all the spots
which recalled to her Albert's love. She even allowed
herself to be drawn by her pious fervor as far as the
Schreckenstein, and sat down upon a stone in this
frightful desert which Albert had so long filled with
his bitter sorrows. She soon departed, finding that
her courage failed and her imagination became dis-
turbed, and fancying that she heard a faint groan
come from the depths of the rock. She dared not
confess to herself that she heard it distinctly. Albert
and Zdenko were no more, and this illusion, therefore,
could be only diseased and baleful. Consuelo has-
tened to escape from it.

As she drew near the castle at nightfall, she saw
Baron Frederick, who, little by little, had steadied
himself on his legs and was reviving under the gratifi-
cation of his favorite passion. The gamekeepers who
accompanied him flushed the game, to excite in him
the desire to bring it down. He still aimed straight,
and picked up his birds with a sigh.

"This one will live and be consoled," thought the
young widow.

The canoness supped, or pretended to sup, in her

35^ CONSUELO.

brother's room. The chaplain, who had risen to go
and pray in the chapel beside Albert, tried to come to
the table. But he had a fever, and became ill at the
first mouthful. At this, the doctor somewhat lost his
temper. He was hungry, and, being compelled to let
his soup grow cold to conduct the chaplain to his
chamber, he could not control this exclamation, —

" These people have neither strength nor courage !
There are only two men here, the canoness and the
signora."

He soon returned, resolved not to trouble himself
about the poor priest's illness, and gave, like the
baron, a hearty reception to the supper. Porpora,
acutely affected, although he did not show it, could
not open his mouth to eat or to speak. Consuelo
thought only of the last meal which she had eaten at
this table with Albert and Anzoleto.

She and her master then made their preparations for
departure. The horses were ordered for four o'clock
in the morning. Porpora did not wish to go to bed ;
but he yielded to the prayers and remonstrances of his
adopted daughter, who feared to see him also fall ill,
and who, to persuade him, pretended that she likewise
was going to rest.

Before separating, they went to Count Christian's
room. He was sleeping peaceably, and Supperville,
who was eager to leave this dreary dwelling, asserted
that he had no more fever.

"Is that certain, sir?" asked Consuelo privately,
frightened at his haste.

CONSUELO, 357

" I swear it," he replied. " He is saved for this
time, but I must warn you that he will not last long.
With persons of his age, sorrow is not felt very acutely
at the moment ; but the weariness of solitude carries
them off a little later ; they draw back, so to speak, to
leap the better. Therefore, be on your guard ; for
you have renounced your rights seriously, I presume."

"Very seriously, I assure you, sir," said Consuelo,
" and I am astonished that you cannot believe in so
simple a thing."

" You will allow me to doubt it until the death of
your father-in-law, madam. Meanwhile, you have
committed a great mistake in not taking possession of
the jewels and title-deeds. Never mind; you have
your reasons, which I cannot understand, and I believe
that so calm a person as you will not act unadvisedly.
I have given my word of honor to keep the family
secret, and I shall wait until you discharge me of it.
My testimony will be useful to you at the proper
time, and you can count on it. You will always find
me at Baireuth, if God gives me life, and in that hope
I kiss your hands, countess."

Supperville took leave of the canoness, answered for
the life of the invaHd, wrote a last prescription, received
a large sum which seemed to him small in comparison
with that which he had hoped to obtain from Consuelo
for having served her interests, and departed from the
castle at ten o'clock, leaving our heroine astounded
and indignant at his worldliness.

The baron retired feeling much better than the day

358 CONSUELO,

before, ana the canoness had a bed placed for herself
near that of Christian. Two women watched in this
room, two men in the chaplain's, and old Hans beside
the baron.

" Happily," thought Consuelo, " poverty does not
add to their misfortunes by privations and loneliness.
But who is watching with Albert, during this mournful
night which he has to pass beneath the chapel roof?
It shall be I, since this is my second and last wedding
night."

She waited till everything was silent and deserted
in the castle, after which, when midnight had sounded,
she lit a little lamp and went to the chapel.

At the end of the cloister which led to it she found
two of the castle servants, who were at first frightened
by her approach, and who afterwards confessed to her
why they were there. They had been charged to
watch their quarter of the night beside the count's
body, but fear had kept them from remaining there,
and they preferred to watch and pray at the door.

"What fear?" asked Consuelo, wounded to see
that already so generous a master inspired no other
feelings in his servants.

" What would you have, signora ? " said one of these
men, who little suspected Count Albert's widow in
her ; " our young lord had singular dealings and ac-
q\iaintances with the world of spirits. He conversed
with the dead and discovered hidden things ; he never
went to church ; he ate with Zingari ; in short, one
cannot tell what may happen to those who spend to-

CONSUELO, 359

night in the chapel. We would not stay there, though
it cost us our lives. Look at Cynabre ! He is not
allowed to go into the holy place, and he has spent
the whole day lying before the door, without eating,
moving or making a sound. He knows that his master
is there, and that he is dead. But since midnight
struck he has been restless, scratching at the door and
whining as if he felt that his master was not alone and
at peace there."

"You are poor fools!" replied Consuelo indig-
nantly. " If your hearts were warmer your heads
would not be so weak." And she entered the chapel,
to the great surprise of the timid watchers.

She had not seen Albert during the day. She knew
that he was surrounded by all the trappings of the
Catholic Church, and she would have feared, by join-
ing in its practices, which he had always rejected, to
wound his soul, which still lived in her own. She had
waited for this moment ; and, prepared for the gloomy
appearance which that religion gave to his surround-
ings, she stood beside his catafalque and looked at
him without terror. She would have believed that she
outraged these dear and sacred remains by a senti-
ment which would be so cruel to the dead if they
could see it. And how can we know that their minds,
freed from their bodies, do not see it and feel a bitter
pain at it? The fear of the dead is an abominable
weakness ; it is the most common and barbarous of
profanations. Mothers do not know what it is.

Albert was lying upon a bed of brocade, escutch-

360 CONSUELO,

eoned on the four corners with the arms of the family.
His head lay upon a cushion of black velvet, bestrewn
with silver tears, and a shroud of the same material
was draped about him like a curtain. A triple row of
candles lighted his pale face, which remained so calm,
pure and manly that one would have said that he was
sleeping peacefully. They had clad the last of the
Rudolstadts, in accordance with a family custom, in
the antique dress of his ancestors. His count's coro-
net was upon his head, a sword by his side, the shield
beneath his feet and a crucifix upon his breast. With
his long hair and black beard, he exactly resembled
the ancient worthies whose statues, stretched upon
their tombs, lay around him. The pavement was
strewn with flowers, and perfumes burned slowly in
silver censers at the four corners of his mortuary
couch.

For three hours Consuelo prayed for her husband
and gazed at him in his sublime repose. Death,
though it had spread a duller tint over his features,
had altered them so little that she several times forgot,
while admiring his beauty, that he had ceased to live.
She even imagined that she heard the sound of his
breathing, and when she left him for a moment to re-
new the perfume in the censers and the lights in the
candlesticks, it seemed to her that she heard a slight
rustling and saw a faint undulation in the curtains and
drapery. She returned to him at once, but, after
questioning his icy mouth and his motionless heart,
she renounced her mad and fleeting hopes.

CONSUELO, 361

When the clock struck three, Consuelo rose and
placed upon the lips of her husband her first and last
kiss of love.

" Farewell, Albert," she said aloud, carried away
by religious exaltation ; " you can now read in my
heart without uncertainty. There are no more clouds
between us, and you know how much I love you.
You know that if I leave your sacred dust in the hands
of a family which will come to-morrow to gaze upon
you without weakness, I do not therefore abandon
your immortal memory and the recollection of your
imperishable love. You know that it is not a forget-
ful widow, but a faithful wife who departs from your
dwelling, and who will ever bear you in her heart.
Albert, as you said, death passes between us, and sepa-
rates us in appearance only to reunite us in eternity.
Constant to the faith which you taught me, certain
that you have deserved the love and blessing of your
God, I cannot weep for you, and nothing will present
you to my mind under the false and impious image of
death. You were right, Albert ; there is no death.
I feel it in my heart, since I love you more than
ever."

As Consuelo finished these words, the curtains be-
hind the catafalque trembled perceptibly, and, opening
suddenly, presented to her eyes the pale face of
Zdenko. She was frightened at first, accustomed as
she was to regard him as her most mortal enemy.
But he had a gentle expression in his eyes, and
stretching out to her over the bed of death a rough

3^2 CONSUELO.

hand which she did not hesitate to press in her own,
he said, smiUng, —

" Let us make peace over this bed of rest, my poor
girl. You are a good child of God, and Albert is
pleased with you. Oh, he is happy now, he is sleep-
ing so well, our good Albert ! I have forgiven him,
you see. I came back to see him when I learned
that he was asleep, and now I shall never leave him.
To-morrow I shall take him to the grotto, and we will
speak again of Consuelo, ' Consulo de mi alma ! ' Go to
rest, my child ; Albert is not alone. Zdenko is here,
ever here. He needs nothing ; he is so happy with
his friend ! Misfortune is averted, evil is destroyed,
death is conquered. The thrice happy day has
dawned. May he who has been wronged salute you ! "
Consuelo could no longer bear the childish joy of
the poor idiot. She bade him a tender farewell, and
when she opened the door of the chapel, she allowed
Cynabre to rush to his old friend, whom he had not
ceased to scent and to call.

" Poor Cynabre ! Come, I will hide you here
under your master's bed," said Zdenko, caressing him
with as much tenderness as if he had been a child.
"Come, come, Cynabre ! Now we are all three to-
gether once more, and we will never again be sepa-
rated."

Consuelo went to awaken Porpora. She then
entered Count Christian's room on tiptoe, and
passed between his bed and that of the canoness.
"Is it you, my daughter?" said the old man,

CONSUELO, 363

without showing any surprise. " I am very glad to
see you. Do not awaken my sister, who is sleeping
well, thank God! and go and do the same; I am
quite easy. My son is saved, and I shall soon be
cured."

Consuelo kissed his white hair and wrinkled hands,
and concealed from him the tears which might have
destroyed his illusion. She did not dare to kiss the
canoness, who was at last sleeping for the first time
in thirty nights. " God has placed a limit to sorrow,"
she thought ; " it is its very excess. May these un-
fortunates long remain under the wholesome oppres-
sion of fatigue ! "

Half an hour later, Consuelo, whose heart was
broken at leaving these noble old people, passed out
with Porpora over the drawbridge of the Castle of the
Giants, without remembering that this formidable
manor, in which so many moats and gates enclosed
such riches and suffering, had become the property
of the Countess of Rudolstadt.

FINIS.

Note. — Those of our readers who are tired of
following Consuelo through so many perils and adven-
tures, may now rest. Those, less numerous, no doubt,
who still feel some courage, will learn in a forthcoming
romance the continuation of her wanderings, and what
became of Count Albert after his death.